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G. IFllim LfDSTON 






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THE 

BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 



A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS 



ry BY 



g/I'rank lydston 



THE RIVERTON PRESS 

CHICAGO 
MCMXI I 



7^ 3^^"^ 

•' 1 ^ I "^ 



M. S. Copyright, 1911. Book Copyright. 1912 

By 

G. FRANK LYDSTON 



{ALL RIGHTS RESERl^ED) 



y 

©■CI.D 31697 



A PROBLEM — ALL HUMAN — 
OF TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 



DEDICATION 

To Jack London 



You once wrote me this: "Well can you and I repeat to- 
gether the words of Watson ' to a Laodicean ' : 

"'Timorous, hesitant voice, how utterly vile I hold you! 

Voice without wrath, without ruth — empty of hate as of love! 
Different notes from these, watchman, blow to the midnight! 
Loud in a deep-lulled land, trumpeter, sound an alarm! '" 

The watchman blew loud; the watchman blew long — with- 
out an answering call. Echoes there were, to be sure — there 
are literary parrots in the Forest of Pen Land — but the deaf 
would not hear the bugle of warning, nor would the blind see 
the grim-visaged trumpeter on the social ramparts. 

But they are beginning to hear and see, and some of the 
inmates of the asylum for the deaf and blind that lies in the 
Land of Fatuous Optimism are now even wondering if they 
could not blow the trumpet louder and better than the watch- 
man himself. And so, all's well — because the dawn is break- 
ing and it one day zmll be well. 

There is no pain like that experienced by that good old 
dame, Society, at the birth of a new idea or in the letting in of 

7 



8 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

light upon her muddy and super-sensitive retina. She some- 
times howls for narcotics when she requires the knife of the 
social surgeon. One of the keenest blades ever wielded was 
that wonderful book, your own People of the Abyss, an 
autograph copy of which lies before me. It should have re- 
moved the cataracts from the eyes of all the world. I read 
it and re-read it, and was consoled — I no longer felt lonely. 

Nothing grows so slowly as the Idea. Once it is born its 
troubles really begin. But it does grow — it can not be killed, 
thank heaven ! And so, my dear London, wc can apply to our 
souls the unction that our work has been well worth while. The 
trouble has been with the soil, not with the Idea. If the soil 
had been right, there would have been no need for the Idea — 
nor would there have been room for social weeds. 

Beneath your photograph, which I so highly prize, you 
have subscribed yourself, "Yours for strong manhood and 
womanhood." The whole story lies in this. It is the beginning 
and the end. It is the voice of the attorney at the bar of social 
justice, pleading for the under-dog — and pleading that there 
should no longer be an under-dog. 

To you, Jack London, literateur second to none, and one 
of the world's greatest sociologists, I dedicate this, my latest 
attempt to write a "score" for the "watchman." 

The; Author. 



PREFACE 



To those who are famihar with the pioneer work which 
has appeared in my various monographs, and later in my Di- 
seases of Society, the intent of this play will be obvious. 

The " Brood of Ishmael " was branded with the blood 
brand. Generation after generation we have ostracised the 
daughters of Ishmael and imprisoned or hanged his sons, but 
the call of his blood is as strong as ever. Experience has 
shown that covering up with more blood the stains on Society's 
hands does not help matters. The blood is all from Society's 
own integers and must be stopped at its very source, else So- 
ciety will go on forever, staining her hands and vestments 
with the blood of her children. 

But Society will not listen — Society will not learn. We go 
on marrying and giving in marriage criminals, lunatics, epilep- 
tics, inebriates and syphilitics and breeding more of their kind ! 
We go on hanging and jailing criminals and ignoring the 
children from whom criminals are made ! We go on paying 
out for the cure of crime and its evil congeners more money 
than we spend for our children's education ! We go on with 
maudlin sentiment and savagely oppose practicality and com- 
mon sense in matrimony — society's very corner stone ! And 
we pretend to be an intelligent social system! 

P 



10 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

A recent editorial in a Chicago newspaper, in taking me 
to task for my views on marriage regulation and control, said, 
" Love is not a bad guide, either." This is true and inspiring. 
Love is not a bad guide — to the jail, the asylum, the hospital — 
and to Reno. When love comes in at the door, reason flies out 
of the window. Love is the greatest transmuter of human 
base metals. With his magician's wand and a skill that Her- 
mann himself might have envied, the little blind God blithely 
transforms an epileptic, a gonorrheic, a lunatic, an* imbecile, 
an inebriate or a criminal into a rosy ideal. Asmodeus of old 
set the pace. Le Sage knew humanity — and builded the Devil 
on Two Sticks to fit it. 

Shall the blind go on leading the blind into the pit and 
shall Society foot the bills, or shall Society "rope off" the pit, 
protect the fools from themselves, Society itself from the fools 
and, above all, protect from Society generations yet unborn? 

Love a "safe guide !" This play is intended to show just 
how safe Cupid really is. The central figure has brains a 
plenty and knows his part in the social drama, but love pushes 
aside the woman of worth and obtrudes into his life a daughter 
of Ishmael. 

" Gloomy and pessimistic," say you, dear reader? Is, then, 
the artist who paints for you the shadows a gloomy fellow? 
Is the man who hangs a red lantern on the mass of boulders 
that highwaymen have placed upon the railway track, a gloomy 
fellow? Is the physician who passes upon your disease and 
suggests remedies a gloomy fellow? 

No? Then why should the "social surgeon," who cuts deep 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS n 

into the heart of things, be called a gloomy fellow or a pessi- 
mist? 

Is this play a plea for marriage control and regulation? 

It is. 

Is it a plea for matrimonial discrimination? 

It is. 

Is it a plea for the protection of the unborn? 

It is. 

Is it a plea for the sterilization of degenerates? 

It is. 

Is it a plea for the under-dog? 

It is. 

Is it a protest against corrupt and grafting police systems 
and police persecution of social outcasts? 

It is. 

Is it a plea for the salvation of the young prospective 
criminal ? 

It is. 

Is it a plea for the education of the layman in matters 
sociologic ? 

It is. 

And more, it is meant to be a human document which will 
show that, in the conflict between man the intellectual and 
man the animal, the animal wins, w^henever and wherever prim- 
ordial passion is in the saddle. It is this that makes Society 
a whited sepulcher. It is this that makes cowards of us all. 

Society has builded a screen called "civilization," behind 
v^hich we feel secure, like the ostrich with his head in the 



12 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

sand, the whilst the rest of our anatomy plays peek-a-boo with 
the enemy — the Devil. But we have not fooled him yet. He 
is human nature's patron saint and knows his devotees. I 
wonder if Puck did not steal the Devil's thunder when he ex- 
claimed, "What fools these mortals be !" 

Dramatic form is most effective in driving home a social 
lesson. After many years of patient endeavor Bernard Shaw 
has taught us this. Imitators of Shaw are springing up like 
mushrooms. Pardon me, kind sirs, for "butting in." I have 
been fighting on the purely sociologic side so long that I 
should be pardoned this transgression. 

G. Frank Lydston. 
Chicago, January 1st, 1912. 



PERSONS OF THE PLAY 



Dr. Gilbert Allyn .... /i struggling doctor, a hobbyist in 

Criminal Sociology and friend of the 
Man Beneath; later, a famous special- 
ist in nervous and mental diseases. 

Kathryn DuplEssis \ Fiancee, and later the butterfly mis- 
Mrs. Gilbert Allyn ) mate of a serious-minded man. 

Mrs. DuplEssis Her foster mother. 

George Maxwell Alias "Gentleman George," yeggman. 

A social derelict whose philosophy of 
life is all gall and ivormivood. 

Helen Carringford. . .T/i^ "Angel of the Slums" and a 
social philosopher. 

Eben Carringford A father who is solid and old-fash- 
ioned, but indulgent. 

Ross HartwEll Old college chum and intimate of 

Dr. Allyn, but not a fid us Achates. 
By profession a lazvyer and by occu- 
pation a "good fcllozv" and ivealthy 
man-about-town; something of a sport. 

Jim Carruthers Society "operator" of the Central De- 
tail. 

Matsada Japanese valet of Dr. Allyn and an 

exponent of jiu jitsu as a fine art. 

Atkins Maid at the Allyns. 

Officer RaffERTy i ^. , ,, ^^ , 

Sergeant Reilly [ ^f ^^'' ^''' ^^''^ P'^''' f^'"'- 

13 



DESCRIPTION OF THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY 



Dr. Gilbe;rt Allyn is a rather plain man of thirty-three 
years of age. He is tall, dark, rather spare, but muscular, and 
slightly stooped. His eyesight has begun to fail from over-use 
and he wears powerful glasses. His eyes are grey and his black 
hair is slightly tinged with grey about the temples. His beard is 
black, and worn a la Van Dyke. He is serious of expression 
and rather deliberate and incisive of speech save when he is 
discussing his pet hobbies or is emotionally excited, when he is 
all fire. His self-control is usually remarkable, but when it is 
lost under great provocation he is not safe to trifle with. He 
has a deep vein of humor and can be extremely satirical. From 
his physique and demeanor he would not appear to be a "heart 
man," yet deep down in his composition is a well of sentiment 
that finally leads to disaster. It is evident that, philosopher 
though he is, he is not a thorough man of the world and is 
deceived by appearances which a socially more experienced 
man would at once penetrate. 

Kathryn Duplessis is a beautiful dark brunette, twenty- 
two years of age, of medium height, with a wealth of raven 
black hair and deep set black eyes. Her complexion is of a clear 
olive type and suggests Latin blood. She is slender, but plump 
and well proportioned. She is quick of movement and her 
manner is vivacious and at times flippant. She is narrow- 

15 



i6 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

minded, occasionally sarcastic of speech, and is obtrusively self- 
centered. Later, as Mrs. AUyn, she wears an expression of 
discontent, her manner in general is peevish and she is inclined 
to whine and to nag her husband. Selfishness obviously is 
her dominant trait throughout. 

Mrs. DuPLKSsis is a charming, white-haired woman of 
medium height, rather inclined to embonpoint. She is somewhat 
over sixty years of age. She is stately, refined, dignified of 
manner and evidently of high breeding and culture. She is 
keen of wit and philosophic or satiric at will. 

George; Maxwell is a man of fifty-two or -three years of 
age, rather above medium height. His hair, once black, is dis- 
tinctly grey. He wears a stubble of coarse black beard sprinkled 
with grey. His eyes are black, brilliant and peculiarly deep set, 
his complexion is dark and shows the pallor of people of his 
class. He is spare of figure and in general shows the efifects of 
vicissitudes. His manner is semi-refined, furtive, yet fearless, 
and his language shows an odd mixture of the results of con- 
siderable reading, and the orgot of the criminal. 

Helen Carringford is a tall, regally handsome, athletically 
built woman of twenty-six years of age, with dark brown hair 
and eyes. She has strong, regular features with a nose slightly 
inclined to the Roman type, and a clear, pale complexion. She 
is slightly myopic and wears a pincc-ne::. Her manner and 
speech are philosophic, calm, dignified, and ordinarily unemo- 
tional. She, however, exhibits on occasion the deepest possible 
feeling. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 17 

EbEn Carringford is a large, portly, fine looking man of 
about sixty-two- or three years of age. His hair and beard are 
almost white. His eyes are dark brown, his nose distinctly 
Roman and his complexion florid. He is bluff, hearty and 
whole-souled. He suggests the fighting man of affairs who 
t.ikes the world as he finds it, whose life has comprehended 
little but business, yet has a vein of homely sentiment. 

Ross Hartwell is a handsome man of thirty-five. He is of 
medium height, fair haired, blue eyed, ruddy of complexion 
and is beginning to show the embonpoint that leisure and good 
living bring to men. His face is smooth shaven, save for a 
small moustache, and shows slight traces of the eft"ects of late 
hours and dissipation. His manner is insouciant, debonair, 
yet often cynical withal, and characterized by the attractive 
bonJioniic that stamps the well fed, easy-going man of the 
world. He is not naturally vicious, but unstable by heredity, 
and a creature of his environment who, in pursuing the 
pleasures of the senses, recognizes no obligation to anything but 
his own desires. He has no faith in anything or anybody. In 
brief, he is a true Son of the Social Froth and an apostle of 
hedonism. 

Jim Carruthers is a man not yet in the thirties, above the 
medium height, broad shouldered and evidently athletic. He 
has wavy, dark brown hair, rather small deep set gray eyes 
and heavy brows. He is smooth shaven and quite handsome. 
He is very genteel looking and his speech shows evidence of 
education, although he occasionally lapses into the character- 
istic expressions of his profession. His demeanor is not sug- 



i8 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

gestive of his vocation save as regards an air of quiet deter- 
mination. In general his carriage is that of one who is follow- 
ing a vocation for sheer love of the work, regarding it as a 
scientific profession rather than a trade. He has on occasion 
the off-hand, flippant air of a thorough-going man of the 
world. 

Matsada is a typic specimen of his race. He is small, wiry, 
and his movements are quick or stealthy as occasion requires. 
His manner suggests alertness and quickness of compre- 
hension. 

Atkins is a typic cockney girl. She is of medium height 
and brilliant complexion. Her eyes are blue and her hair red- 
dish brown. She is quite pretty, of good figure, and char- 
acteristically pert. 

Sergeant Reilly. ) „,, ' ,. • r 

^ ° ^ v 1 hese men are ordmary specmiens oi 

Officer Raffkrty. j -^ 

the burly, red faced Irish American New York policeman. 

Reilly is a fat man of perhaps fifty years of age and Rafferty 

a rugged fellow of forty. 



COSTUMES 



ACT I. 

Dr. Allyn is plainly dressed in a dark business 

sack suit, tiirn-dozvn collar and dark 
four-in-hand tie. His hat is the con- 
ventional black derby, his gloves are 
dark brozvn and his overcoat a dark 
grey. His shoes ore black. 

Ross HartwEll is elegantly, but not loudly dressed, 

in a sack suit of dark grey, on up-to- 
date standing collar and a light four- 
in-hand tie. His overcoat, gloves and 
shoes are a light tan. He has a red 
flozver in his coat lapel. His hat is a 
light grey fedora. 



Helkn Carringford. 



Mr. Carringford 



.is dressed in a modest tailoruiade suit 
of dark blue and a plain but elegant 
toque. Her gloves are ivhite and her 
shoes plain black zvalking shoes. She 
carries an elegant black leather bag. 

.is dressed in a plain black cutazvay 
coat, light grey overcoat, medium dark 
grey trousers, a white vest, derby hat, 
dark bozo tie, standing collar, and 
enameled leather shoes. 
19 



20 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 



Matsada 



,is dressed in a rather ill-fitting black 
ack suit zvith a flaming red boiv tie 
and turn-doivn collar. 



ACT II. 

Dr. Allyn is dressed in a dark hrozvn velvet 

lounging jacket, dark vest and 
trousers, fashionable standing collar, 
zvhite four-in-hand tie and enameled 
leather shoes. 

Ross Hartwi;ll is dressed in dark brown ivorsted cut- 
away coat and trousers, dark fancy 
vest, fashionable stand-up collar zvith 
bozv tic, patent leather shoes zvith 
grey spats, a dark brozvn fedora hat 
and dark overcoat. 

HelKn Carringford. . .w dressed in the conventional nurse's 
garb of zvhite, zvith brozvn cloak and 
bonnet and grey suede gloves. On 
her left sleeve is a red cross. 

Gentleman George.... w roughly dressed in a dark brozvn 
sack suit, zvith the collar of the coat 
turned up, black cap pulled dozvn so 
as to shade his face, clumsy shoes and 
a blue cotton shirt zvithout collar or 
tie. 

Matsada is dressed in a zvell- fitting sack suit, 

zvith fashionable stand-up collar and 
vivid red bozv tie, black shoes and 
grey spats. 



THE. BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 21 

ACT III. 

Dr. Allyn is dressed as in Act II, with the ex- 
ception of the house jacket, which is 
replaced by a sack coat to match vest 
and trousers. 

Mrs. Duple;ssis is elegantly and fasJiionahly attired in 

a black tailored gozcn, small black hat 
and dark furs. She carries a lorg- 
nette. 

Kathryn DuplESSis. . .«'£'ar.y a dark mixed grey, fancy 
tailor-made suit zcitli grey gloves and 
shoes to match, ermine furs and a 
large black hat with plumes. 

Hart WELL is dressed as in Act II. 

Matsada is dressed as in Act II. 



ACT IV. 
Scene One. 

Dr. Allyn is dressed in a lounging jacket and 

dark vest and trousers, standing collar, 
white four-in-hand tic and black en- 
ameled shoes. 

Mrs. Allyn is dressed in an elegant kimono and 

house slippers. 

Atkins is dressed in the conventional maid's 

garb with zvhite apron and cap. 



22 THE BLOOD OP THE PAT HERS 

ACT IV. 

Scene Two. 

Dr. Allyn is dressed as hi Scene One. 

Jim CarruTHERS is fasJiionably attired in a black cut- 

azvay suit zvitli dark tan gloves, high 
turn-over collar and dark blue bozv 
tie, black derby hat and black en- 
ameled shoes. 

Mrs. Allyn wears the same kiinono as in Scene 

One. 



SCENES 

The; First Act. 
Dr. Allyn's office in the New York slums. 

The Second Act. 

Dr. Allyn's library and consultation room at his residence 
on Madison Avenue. 

The Third Act. 
The same as in the Second Act. 

The Fourth Act. 

Scene I. — The breakfast room at the Allyns. 
Scene II. — The same as in the Second and Third Acts. 

Time — The present. 
Place — New York City. 



23 



THE FIRST ACT 



25 



THE FIRST ACT 



TIME— The Present. 
SCENE: 

Dr. Allyn's office at his residence in lozver Third Avenue, New 
York. TJie office is plainly furnished zvitJi nn-iiphol- 
stered oak chairs and a plain oak table used for a desk, 
a plain wooden wall instrument cabinet with glass front, 
shozving instruments of various kinds, an office operat- 
ing chair, a number of plain open shelves with an assort- 
ment of books, and a cheap drum stove. There is an 
old zvaste basket beneath the table filled to overflozving 
with old letters, magazines and nezvspapers. Two of 
the chairs each contain a pile of books and medical 
journals. 

The table is littered zvith a confusion of books, medical journals 
and odd samples of medicines in bottles and boxes. Ash 
tray and "push-down" call bell on desk. LigJit is fur- 
nished by gas, the chandeliers being plain and obviously 
cheap. Several anatomic charts, some cheap engravings 
and prints and several framed diplomas and certificates 
are seen on the zvalls. Wall telephone below, at left, 
down stage. 

On center zvall is an electric cabinet and a tall, plain, zuooden 
cabinet containing a human skeleton. This is con- 
structed so that zvhen the door of the cabinet is opened 
the top rotates forzvard with the door and the skeleton, 
suspended from the top, szcings outzvard into the room. 
27 



38 THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

On a small table, up stage, at right, is a cheap sterilising ap- 
paratus and several jars containing cotton and bandages. 
A plain zvhite enameled sink zvith tivo zvater faucets 
stands against the zvall, at right. Belozv tJiis sink Jiangs 
a glass irrigator on a metal stand. Conveniently near 
the sink Jiangs a plain zvJiitc cloth extension screen. 

In one corner, rigJit, up stage, is an arrangement of shelves 
containing bottles and boxes of drugs of various colors. 
Belozv these shelves is a plain zcork table of pine. 
Upon tJiis table is a cheap microscope, some books and 
papers, a stand of test-tubes and a centrifiige. On the 
floor is linoleum of mosaic pattern and a fezv cheap 
rugs. 

The tzvo zvindozvs at rear, rigJit and left center, are single 
paned, and curtained zuith plain shades. A practical 
door at rigJit and anotJier at left. The door at left is an 
ordinary door zcith glass panel. It connects zi'itJi a small 
reception Jiall. The doctor's name and Jiours can be 
seen on the glass door-panel and on botJi zvindozvs. 

A pleasant evening in tJie early spring. 
The zvindozvs of tJie doctor's office are 
open. From tJie opposite side of the 
street come tJie sounds of a Jiurdygurdy 
playing the Merry IVidozv zvalts, and the 
dancing feet and Jiappy voices of little 
cJiildren. TJie Jiurdygurdy and the chil- 
dren move on and the soiDids are lost in 
the distance. A moment later an alterca- 
tion betzveen an Irish policeman and a 
street loafer is heard just zvithout, and 
the policeman is seen driving the fellozv 
past the zvindozv down the street. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS sg 

Matsada is seen arranging desk and 
furniture, zvJiich are in some disorder. 
Pauses for a moment before desk, re- 
garding litter of hooks and magazines. 
Shakes his head dcprecatingly. 

Police;man. 
Hey, there, you bum ! Move on wid yez ! 

Loafer. 
Ah, gwan ! I ain't doin' nuttin'. 

Policeman. 

Is — that — so? Well, Oi'U take no chances. G'long now, or 
Oi'll run ye in ! 

[Officer drives loafer away and disap- 
pears.] 

Matsada. 
(Still surveying the disorder.) 
Bad — much bad ! But honorable doctor say he kill anybody 
who makes books to upset. 

[Continues to arrange room, taking 
elaborate pains to heap up books and 
magazines zvith which several chairs are 
filled. 

Goes to instrument cabinet and stands 
curiously gazing at it for a moment. 
Tries knob and finds it locked. Shakes 
his head regretfully. Goes to tall cabinet 
in rear and finds key in lock. Smiles 



30 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

with satisfaction. Opens door zvidely. 
Skeleton is disclosed! Matsada sudden- 
ly closes door and holds it shut by lean- 
ning against it zuith both hands. Hears 
doctor coming ; jumps away from cabinet 
and stands frightened and trembling. 

Doctor, carrying instrument satchel, 
enters at left, notes the tableau and com- 
prehends situation.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Satirically, putting satchel on top of instrument 
cabinet, removing gloves and putting them in 
his pocket, renwz'ing coat and hat and throzving 
them carelessly on a chair full of books.) 
Well, Matsada, you seem a bit disturbed. Haven't had bad 
news from home, have you? Nothing wrong with our dear 
Mikado, I hope? 

Matsada. 
(Shakily.) 
Y — yis, sar; n — no, sar; th — thank you, sar. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Ever hear of Mrs. Bluebeard, Matsada? 

Matsada. 
(Bozving lozv.) 
Y — yis, sar; n — no, sar. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Somewhat ambiguous, but I infer that you never have heard 
of her. I shall take pleasure at some future time in making 
you acquainted with the lady. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 31 

Matsada. 
Yis sar. Thank you, sar. 

Dr. Allyn, 
Don't mention it. You may make yourself scarce. And don't 
butt in this evening unless I ring for you. I have some work 
to do and don't wish to be disturbed. Understand? 



Matsada. 



(Bozviny lozv.) 
No, sar — yis, sar. 



[Starts out at right. Pauses en route, 
turning toward doctor. -Doctor takes 
book from library case and goes to desk. 
Turns up student lamp, lays book on 
desk, opens draiver, takes out zvriting 
pad and prepares to read and zvrite.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Looking up.) 
Well, what now? 

Matsada. 
(Bozving lozv.) 
Will honorable doctor please to sometime remember to make 
Matsada, the low-born, to see lady with honorable blue 
whiskers ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing prodigiously.) 
Sure ! 

Matsada. 
(Bozving lozv.) 
Thank you, sar. 



32 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

[Exit Matsada, at right, picking up 
doctor's coat and hat en route. 

The doctor seats himself at his desk, 
lights pipe and begins reading and mak- 
ing notes by the light of student lamp. 
A ring at the 'phone. Doctor anszvers 
ring.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(At 'phone.) 

Hello! Yes, this is Doctor Allyn. Oh, Dr. 

Weston ! Yes, I hold my clinic in the morning, as usual. 
Tumor of the cerebellum, eh? Magnifi- 
cent ! Thank you, Weston, for referring the case to 

me. By the way, old man, how's the new baby? 

What! Already? (Laughing.) No doubt, no doubt. 

■ I suppose that in another week he'll be cracking 

walnuts with his teeth and running an automobile. 



Oh, no, not for me. I'm too busy. Don't you be- 
lieve it 'till you see the cards. So, you have her 

picked out, eh? (Laughing.) All right, try it on. 

Say, Bob, you're a pretty fair surgeon, but as a matchmaker 

you're punk. Drop into the clinic if you can and 

we'll go over that case together. Good night! 

[Takes small memorandum book from 
pocket and makes note. Returns to desk, 
sighs, standing.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

Well, Bob probably knows his own business best, but a man 
can't serve two mistresses, science and a family, at the same 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 33 

time. (Laughing.) I can see old Bob's hand shake at an oper- 
ation after walking the floor all night with a colicky infant ! 
But (Gravely, seating Jiiniself.) it might not be a laughing mat- 
ter for the patient. 

[Reads and makes notes for a moment. 
'Phone rings. He ansivers.^ 

Dr. Allyn. 
(At 'phone.) 

Hello Yes, this is Dr. Allyn Why, no ; I 

can't very well call this evening. Wouldn't tomor- 
row morning do? Yes — I suppose I could come to- 
night, but probably not before midnight. Very well. 

[Again makes a memorandum and re- 
turns to desk. Reads and makes notes 
for a moment. 'Phone rings. Anszvers 
'phone.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(At 'phone.) 

Hello! Oh. the Herald. N— no, I'd 

rather not be intervlew^ed on that subject. Can't say, 

it's too recent as yet, and besides, I don't believe in news- 
paper publicity for medical discoveries. Sorry, but 

I can't help you this time. 

[Returns to desk, shrugging shoulders. 
Seats himself and looks dozvn left cen- 
ter. Lays hand, palm doumzvard, on 
open hook and reflectively gazes into 
space.] 



34 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Relighting pipe.) 
Professional ethics is a queer thing. Now if they had called 
up old Hammingford, there would have been two columns 
with scare headlines in the paper tomorrow morning. And 
Hammingford would have gotten away with it, too. But if 
/ had given to the Herald ten words, and they were pub- 
lished under my name, I'd have been churched by the Academy 
for unethical conduct. (Turns to desk.) Well, I suppose 
my time will come, li it ever does — (Laughing.) I'll have 
a press agent and stipulate that my stuff shall be printed in 

[Resumes reading and note-taking. 
'Phone rings. Ansivers, irritably.^ 

Dr. Allyn. 
(At 'phone, crossly.) 

Hello! (Lowers voice.) Oh, good evening, Mrs. 

Reilly. (Kindly.) What can I do for you ? I don't 

think you have cause for worry. No, not suddenly 

like that. Give the little chap a teaspoonful of 

syrup of ipecac and put some cloths wet with cold water about 
his throat. Repeat the ipecac in an hour, if necessary. I'll 

drop in in the morning. How's Mike? A 

sergeant ! eh ? Glad to hear it. He deserves it. Good night ! 

[Returns to desk, slams book shut 

zvith a bang and, standing, knocks ashes 

from Jiis pipe and lays it on the desk.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Petulantly.) 
Well, if this is the comfort of a bachelor's home, I wonder 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 35 

how old Bob stands it! He must study in his sleep, (Looks 
at watch.) I may as well attend to that call now, and take 
my chances of getting some time for work later on. 

[Rings bell on desk. After a moment 
rings bell again loudly. Looks impatient- 
ly toivard door at right. 

Hnter Matsada, at right, stifling a 
yazvn.] 

Matsada. 
(Sleepily.) 
Did honorable doctor make bell to ring? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Honorable doctor most certainly did make bell very much to 
ring. Were you asleep and dreaming of cherry blossoms and 
Geisha girls, or reading the gospel of Buddha? 

Matsada. 

(Humbly, rubbing his eyes and bozving lozv.) 
Your low-born servant was dreaming, but he did not to sleep. 
It is not good that he should sleep before honorable doctor. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
All right, Mr. Smooth ; let it go at that. (Looking at chair 
on zvhich he laid coat and hat.) Bring me my hat and over- 
coat. You seem to have concealed them somewhere. 



36 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Matsada. 
(Sleepily.) 
Yis, sar. Thank you, sar. 

[Exit at right. Returns rvith hat and 
coat. Doctor dons them, zvith Mat- 
sada's assistance.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Putting on gloves.) 

If there are any callers while I'm gone, Matsada, ask them 
to wait. I'll return within an hour. 



Yis, sar. 



Matsada. 

{Doctor returns to desk, picks up 
several papers and puts them in drazver. 
Door bell rings.] 



Dr. Allyn. 

(Impatiently, looking up and facing Matsada.j 

Attend the door, Matsada. 

[Doctor, one glove on, stands at desk 
impatiently and expectantly zvaiting, 
Matsada, bozving and scraping, opens 
door at left.] 



Mal^ Voiciv. 



Is the doctor in? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 37 

Matsada. 
(Still boiving and scraping.) 

No. sar ; thank you, sar. He will by and by in one hour come 
back. Please to make enter, sar. 

[Enter Ross HartwEll. Dr. Allyn, 

removing glove en route, hastens tozvard 

him.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Joyfully.) 

By Jove! if it isn't Ross! Hello, old man! How are you? 

[They shake hands zvarnily.] 

Hartwell. 
Hello, yourself, Esculapius ! (Noting that tlic doctor is ready 
for the street.) But you were going out, and I mustn't inter- 
fere with the pursuit of the Golden Fleece. Don't want to 
buck against IMammon. He's a friend of mine. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Mammon ! That's a joke. Never mind IMammon, anyway. 
He can wait. There's no rush about the call. The case isn't 
urgent and I can attend to it later. Matsada, you unsophisti- 
cated chip of a Buddhist block, take Mr. Hartwell's hat and 

C03.t 

[^.Iatsada takes Hartwell's hat and 
coat.} 



Have a chair, Ross. 



Dr. Allyn. 

[Places chair at right of desk, Hart- 
wEll seats himself, and the doctor, after 



SS THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

removing coat and hat and tossing tlicni 
onto a book-piled chair, follows suit by 
taking his usual scat at desk. Matsada 
ostentatiously rearranges doctor's hat 
and coat on book-piled cJiair and disap- 
pears through door at rigJit witJi Hart- 
wEll's coat and hat.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Slapping HartwEll on the knee.) 

Ross, you're a life saver! My happy home Hfe has been so 
strenuous this evening that I was trying to get away from it — 
by changing work for an hour. 

[Doctor rings bell and Matsada ap- 
pears, at right.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
■\Iatsada, the bottle and some cigars. 

Matsada. 
(Smiling broadly.) 
Yis, sar; thank you, sar. 

[Exit Matsada, unth alacrity — for 
the first time.'] 

Dr. Allyn. 

You will notice, Ross, that Matsada did not ask zvJiich bottle. 
He knows your habits. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 39 

HartwKll. 
(Looking at chemicals on shelves.) 
From the appearance of those shelves it may be as well that 
he does know my habits. He might bring the wrong bottle. 
I shouldn't like to have Matsada bringing me bottles at ran- 
dom. I fancy I'm not popular with him. 

Dr. Allyn. 

You probably have ruffled his dignity at some time or other. 

He's long on dignity. 

[Matsada returns, by door at right, 
with tray, zvhisky bottle, glasses, siphon 
seltzer bottle and cigars. Presents tray 
to gentlemen. Bach takes a glass. Mat- 
sada places tray on desk, shoving back 
books, papers, etc., to make room for it. 
Returns zvith whisky bottle, pours whis- 
ky into Hartwell's glass, and returns 
to tray.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
Matsada knows my habits, too. You won't mind if I drink 
seltzer? 

HartwEll. 
Not at all. You always do drink some such honible stuff — 
and I never do mind. Matsada, I'll have some of the same 
buzz water, on the side. 

[!\[atsada attempts to fill glasses and 
squirts seltzer all over himself. He 
stands helplessly looking from tray to 
the gentlemen, and vice versa.] 



io THE, BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
Great heavens ! Matsada, what do you think you're doing — 
blowing up Port Arthur? Bring that tray here. If you Japs 
can't use explosives better than that, you'll get a good licking 
some day. You can guess who'll do it. 

[Matsada brings tray to doctor.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Rising, and s'lozi'ing Matsada.^ 

Don't press your finger so hard on the trigger, Matsada. 
Sec — this is the way. 

[The gentlemen drink and the doctor 
seats himself.] 

Hartv/Ell. 
(Sarcastically.) 

I hope the seltzer took some of the pain out of Matsada's 

dignity. 

[Matsada, unnoticed, glares furiously 
at Hartwkll and suggestively moves Jiis 
fingers as though lie zvould like to 
strangle him.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Without glarwing up at MaTsada.J 
Cigars, Matsada. 

Matsada. 
(Suddenly composing features and hands.) 
Yis, sar; thank you, sar. 

[Matsada presents liolder zvith cigars 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 41 

and lights niafcli for each gentleman. 
Replaces holder on stand, helping himself 
to a cigar and putting it in his pocket 
ostentatiously and smilingly.'] 



That's all, Matsada. 



Dr. Allyn. 
{E.vit Matsada, by door at right.] 



HartwEll. 
I'm glad to know that I'm really not intruding, Gilbert, My 
conscience troubles me when I run in on you unceremoniously. 
You're usually delving into some big tome or other, digging 
out misinformation for the bewilderment of the medical pro- 
fession. 

Dr. Allyn. 
And that gets on your nerves, doesn't it, you bubble of society 
froth? Well, turn about is fair play. Your devil-may-care 
attitude and lack of ambition are perfectly maddening to me. 
I wish I could make that alert brain of yours the bond slave 
of my brain — make you work for me ten hours a day, gather- 
ing intellectual plums to satisfy my mental hunger. 

Hartwkll. 
(Nonchalantly.) 
Oh, what's the use? A fellow doesn't need to know much to 
keep in the swim. There's no use being an intellectual heavy 
when lightweights pass as the coin current of wisdom. Con 
'em, my boy, con 'em ! Vive la fourflush ! Gather just enough 
dead lumber from other men's mental garrets to fool the ad- 



42 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

dlepates that don't know anything, and you're all right. A 
fellow's brow might be so high that when the barber shaved 
his neck he'd have to dodge his eyebrows — but it wouldn't 
get him anything for the flesh-pots. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Yes ; but unless a fellow has plenty of intellectual ammunition 
on hand, he's likely, sooner or later, to meet his Waterloo. 

Hartwell. 
(Satiricallly, reaching for ash tray, zvhicli the 
doctor pushes tozvard him, and flipping asJi from 
Jiis cigar.) 

Not in New York society, my boy, and there's the place to 

gather grist for the mill. It's easy picking. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sniiling.) 
Why, I supposed that our Wall Street bears and social lions 
had to back up their sharp teeth and imposing fronts with 
intellectual accomplishments. 

Hartwell. 
Forget it, my boy ; forget it ! They're like some of those swell- 
front houses — so shallow that you tumble down the back steps 
as soon as you enter the front door. You could put in your 
change-pocket all the real knowledge possessed by the aver- 
age business or social success — and then you'd have to get out 
a search warrant if you ever wanted to find it again. Society! 
A world in which a male biped with bad arteries and locomo- 
tor ataxia is a gentleman, and a lady is a female with a muddy 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 43 

complexion and a pain in her back Wait till you get as near 
'em as I am, and you'll agree with me. 

Dr Allyn, 
(Laughing.) 
Ross, you're incorrigible. Possibly your lack of digger's am- 
bition is one of the reasons why you interest me. 

[He refills Hartwell's glass.] 

HartwEll. 
Well, the unlike attracts. You ought to find me mighty fasci- 
nating — and mighty restful for brain fag. I'm an Epicurean, 
through and through. I don't like work — and I don't want 
to be a genius with egg on my whiskers. The pursuit of 
pleasure is my vocation, law my avocation Martin Luther's 
philosophy is good enough for me* (Raises glass.) Wer nicht 
liebt Wcin, IVeib iind Gesang, bleibt ein Narr sein Leben lang! 
{Drinks.'] 

Dr. Allyn. 
The world of pleasure is your oyster, eh? 

Hartwell. 
(Setting dozen glass.) 
Falstafif was no fool. Why, I wouldn't trade my yacht or my 
horses for all the glory your studies will ever bring you. As 
for knowledge, so long as little sells for much, I don't care to 
accumulate much to sell for little — and that's what you'll do, 
all your life. And the best you'll ever get will be a few moist 
weeps at your funeral — for you're a doctor, and you can't 



44 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

break into the Hall of Fame with an ax ! I'm like that old chap 
who said: Give me taffy while I'm alive, and to hell with 
the epitaphy. But what's been rasping your nerves this 
evening? 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Rising^ replacing in library book from desk and 

returning to desk.) 
Why, nothing unusual, I confess. Life with me is like that 
of every doctor — largely made up of small worries— and 
cliiefly other people's at that. I don't suppose things were any 
worse this evening than usual, but I'd settled down to a few 
hours of quiet enjoyment, and have made rather a failure of 
it. 

Hartwell, 
(LaugJiing.) 
I see—an evening of drudgery over some essay or other, on 
the wherefore of the which — or why is a lunatic or a criminal ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
We'll not quarrel about terms. I really was writing a paper 
for the Academy, and was disturbed in a most maddening 
way. That infernal 'phone has been ringing every few min- 
utes all evening and I finally — 

yPlwne rings loudly and long.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
There goes that beastly thing again ! 

[Anszvers 'phone. Hartwi^ll laughs 
uproariously. 1 



THE BLOOD OF THE, EAT HERS 45 

Dr. Allyn. 
(At 'phone, testily.) 
Hello! Hello! Oh, Kicky McQuirk. eh? 



Well, you have your gall with you. Lucky for you that I'm 

qualifying for a nerve specialist. What are you in 

for now ? Assault and battery ! Great 

Fitzsimmons ! I thought I'd cured you of that. All 

right, you'll keep where you are 'till morning I'll 

be at the police court at 10 o'clock. Good night, and by the 
way, don't steal the furniture of the hotel. 

Hartwell. 
(Sorcastically.) 

There's nothing like a fashionable clientele, eh, Gilbert? One 
of your Fifth Avenue millionaires, of course? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing, returning to desk.) 
An old friend of my Blackwell's Island days. He was my 
convict orderly during my service as surgeon at the pen. I'd 
lost track of him until a short time ago, when our acquaint- 
ance was renewed in a very peculiar way (Seats himself on 
upper corner of desk.) Like to hear the story? 

Hartwell. 
(Sighing resignedly.) 
I've already stood for a large batch of your romances and 
tragedies of the slums, and I may as well chance another, so 
blaze away. 



46 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
I was on my way to call on one of my dispensary out-patients 
on Second Avenue some weeks ago, when I noticed an elegant 
car, standing in front of a tumble-down tenement a little way 
down the street. Just as I glanced at the out of place machine 
a young woman appeared at the door of the tenement, on her 
way to the car. As she reached the sidewalk a rough looking 
man jostled against her. grabbed her hand-bag and ran down 
the street in my direction. I stepped aside and, as he passed, 
caught him flush on the chin. He went down and out. I 
went to the assistance of the young woman and found that 
she had a badly sprained ankle. With the assistance of the 
chauffeur I put her into the car and returned to my man. I 
assisted him to his feet and was astonished to find that he 
was my old orderly. He apologized for robbing a loidy friend 
of mine, and complimented me on the blow I gave him. Said 
it was like a punch from the end of a telegraph pole; which, 
coming from the Honorable "Kicky" JMcOuirk, sometime mid- 
dleweight champion of the East Side, was quite a compliment. 
I got my friend out of the way just as Rafferty, the patrol- 
man, came strolling along. I returned to the car, introduced 
myself, and the young woman, after thanking me for the re- 
turn of her handbag and inquiring after the health of 
McQuirk, invited me to ride home with her and take charge of 
her injured ankle. As she resides in a fashionable part of 
Fifth Avenue, you'll note that I've really fought my way into 
elite circles. 

Hartwell. 
Oh, ho! Quite a romance. Heroine rescued from villain! 
Hero rewarded with her hand ! When will the wedding bells 
ring? But what's her name? Don't be afraid, I won't steal 
her. 



THE BLOOD OF THH FATHERS 47 

Dr. Allyn. 
Knowing your weakness, I call that very generous ; but I 
don't believe you could steal her, anyway, Ross. The young 
woman has brains — and plenty of them. 

Hartwell. 
(LoitgJmigly.) 

Thank you so much for calling my attention to the obvious. 
But, my boy, the brain obstacle is not all one-sided. Female 
prodigies are not to my taste. They're too much in the clouds, 
and inclined to be skittish. I like 'em nearer the earth. Fe- 
male high.brows can be brought down, but it's too much 
trouble, so long as the shooting in the social woods is as easy 
as in a game preserve. The intellectual side of this soul mate 
and affinity business is largely bunk, anyhow. It's a lame 
excuse some people give for primitive instincts. 

Dr. Allyn. 
What a beautiful combination of rake and cynic you are, 
Ross! 

Hartwell. 
And tolerated by you because I'm a fine subject for study, 
eh? See here, Gilbert, you're so straight that you're a freak, 
but your ideals are no higher than mine were once. How did 
you keep yours? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Reflectively.) 
Well, I didn't do it alone. Father, mother, sister, my am- 
bition, and — a memory — the memory of a little girl I used 
to play with. She died, long ago, but — 



48 THH BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Hartwell. 
(Cynically.) 

Be glad of that. Fate isn't kind to women. A fellow gets a 
shock when he sees at forty the sweetheart of sixteen. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 

Well, then, let's be thankful for the faculty of imagination — 
Poor little Madge ! 

Hartvvell. 

The difference between us is largely a matter of illusions. I've 
lost mine, that's all. I haven't any family idols or — 

Dr. Allyn. 
But your mother? 

Hartwell. 

Oh, I had one, all right. Don't remember the evening we 
were introduced. The family doctor did it. I have her picture, 
inscribed — From Mamma. I remember my foster mother 
best. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Your foster mother ! 

Hartwe;ll. 

Yes ; my foster mother — Mrs. A. Bottle — the only mother in 
New York society who isn't ashamed of nature — too busy to 
nurse the baby — afraid of spoiling her shape or — 



THE BLOOD OP THB FATHERS 49 

Dr. Allyn. 
Or a fountain of life gone dry, eh? It's a pity Mrs. Bottle 
couldn't be cleaner in her habits. She'd have the other society 
mothers beat all around. And your father? 

Hartwell. 

Dad was a good sort and a game old sport, but mother was 
too busy with social stunts to devote much time to him, so he 
divided his time between Wall Street and — his own little bot- 
tle. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Any sisters? 

Hartwell. 
Nary a sister, and I'm damned glad of it. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Sweetheart? — the real thing? 

Hartwell. 

(Satirically, looking at the doctor a second before 

replying.) 
Well, you are some quiz-master! — Yes; / have a memory — 
two of 'em. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Two of them! 

Hartwell. 
Yes; two — one, the girl I was going to marry when I grew 
up ; the other the same girl grown up. 



50 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
What became of her? 

Hartwell. 
Ever hear of Madame Casper? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Madame Casper? 

Hartwell. 
Yes; Madame Casper, of the tenderloin. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Yes ; I've heard of her. 

Hartwell. 
Well— 

Dr. Allyn. 
What ! Was she your — 

Hartwell. 
(Rising.) 
Beautiful evening, isn't it? Let's have a drink. 

[TJiey drink in silence, the doctor tak- 
ing seltser, as before.] 

Hartwell. 
(Seating himself and continuing.) 
Well, go on. Who is the female paragon? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 51 

Dr. Allyn. 

She's the only daughter of Eben Carringford, Wall Street 
broker, retired. (Laughing.) He's an exception to your rule 
as to the intellect of successful business men, for he thinks 
I'm a fine doctor. 

HartwEll. 
Indeed ! Then I'll admit, with due deference to your modesty, 
that he has some intelligence. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing.) 

As for Miss Carringford, she is no rich man's spoiled child. 
Her complexion is not muddy — and she's not subject to back- 
ache. 

HartwEll. 
(Interjecting sarcastically.) 
Not in society, eh? How interesting! 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Continuing.) 
She's a practical sociologist, an author and an enthusiastic 
slum worker. Better still, she has submerged sex in her am- 
bition to be useful to humanity, 

HartwEll, 

(Striking desk zvith Jiis fist and rising.) 

By Jove! Can you beat it? Talk about luck — why, she's 

your female counterpart ! Two cranks with but a single think ; 

two souls that slum as one! Whom hobbies have joined to- 



52 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

gether let no man put asunder. (Snccringly.) Submerged 
her sex! — tommyrot! Just throw her a Hfe-preserver that 
wears trousers and see if she doesn't grab it. If husbands 
had been provided for lonesome suffragettes, female suffrage 
would have died abornin — and its disciples would be raising 
less hell and more babies. Take it from me, Gilbert, your cue 
is to get in line for the heiress. Don't let her get away, my 
boy. (Looks around.) I fancy I can see a way out of your 
present circumstances. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gravely.) 
My good friend, I don't believe you ever ivill understand me. 
Still less will you ever understand such noble women as Miss 
Carringford. When I was working among the poor devils at 
Blackwell's Island — the Isle of the Unfit — I resolved to devote 
my life to ameliorating the conditions of the man beneath — 
the underdog. In my present field I'm close to him, where I 
can work to the best advantage. I must do my duty as I see it. 

Hartwell. 
Duty ! An ugly word ; suggests disagreeable things. But it 
doesn't bother me. I attend to only the pleasurable affairs of 
life — and they never arc duties. Duty! Don Quixote and the 
windmills! What can you accomplish in your little span? All 
the preaching ever heard ; all the damn fool theories ever con- 
cocted; all the courts and jails the world has ever seen, have 
miserably failed. There is the same percentage of social scum 
and dregs as ever. The world's greatest reformer bucked 
against a system two thousand years ago; he lost himself — 
and the world is not yet saved. The Nazarene never appealed 
to me much. He was a good sort — couldn't be improved on — 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 53 

but when he bucked against ignorance, indifference and selfish 
ambition he was bound to lose out. The fellow who tries to 
save people who don't want to be saved, and who merely ques- 
tion his motives or regard him as a lunatic, is a fool. Reform ! 
Hell ! I don't believe it would take many cords of wood to 
build crucifixes for all of my family that ever went into the 
reform business. Gilbert, you — make — me — tired! Why not 
do as I do — take the world as you find it? 

[HartwKll impatiently returns to his 
seat and lights cigar.^ 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Emphatically, rising and zvalking about.) 
Because our viewpoints dift'er. I must live my life, and I've 
planned it along lines different from yours. The world has 
failed to better itself because it has never been thoroughly in 
earnest — because it has tried to cure social ills instead of pre- 
venting them by combating causes. I'm going to do what I 
can to help set matters right. And the case is not so hopeless 
as you think. (Stops and faces HartwEll.j Why, man, the 
time will come when the horrible results of human passions 
will be looked upon as evidences of semi-barbarism — of ig- 
norance and bad health. Bad nutrition, bad heredity, dirt and 
social imbecility are the devils that underlie crime. Well nour- 
ished, clean, happy and intelligent human beings are in- 
stinctively honest and peaceable. Not out of preaching, but out 
of sound bodies and disciplined minds will come at last, peace 
on earth, good will to men. 

HartwEll. 
(Cynically.) 
Yes ; but what's bred in the bone — 



54 THIS BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Iinprcssrc'cly.) 
That works both ways ; and besides, every child has a right to 
be well born and we must help him to come into his own. 
He can't select his own parents, hence we should do some 
selecting for him. It is for society to say whether the mar- 
riage license shall be a ticket to hell for souls unborn, or a 
passport to the only heaven we are sure of — a happy, whole- 
some life. Society should protect the unborn. Some parents 
have no right to have children — many prospective children 
have the right not to be even conceived. The sins of the 
fathers are visited only through the blood of the fathers. Even 
the sinless bad blood of one generation may be the criminal 
bad blood of the next. Good, clean blood will wash the devil 
off the map. 

[The doctor zvalks toivard the library 
case.] 

Hartwell. 
(Dubiously, shaking liis head.) 
Well, your doctrine is a mighty uncomfortable one. Any fel- 
low who climbs his family tree high enough is likely to find 
something queer up yonder. I should think your own sleep 
would be disturbed at times. Nobody can feel safe. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Explosively, stopping suddenly and facing Hartwell.J 
Safe? No man is safe. On my father's side, not so far back, 
were rude, roistering giants who drank deep, played high — and 
fought hard. Some, I suspect, were squires of dames; some 
died forgetting to take off their boots. On my mother's side, 



THE BLOOD OF THE, FATHERS 55 

good old Puritans — angels at prayer and devils in a fight. No 
real crime — and no streak of yellow — anywhere — but plenty of 
savage. All my life I've been afraid of that savage. 

Hartwell. 
(Reflectively, rising and standing near desk at right.) 
Well, after all, it's nice to have some rascally ancestor or a 
bad digestion to fall back on. (Sarcastically.) If it were only 
possible to hang or imprison your great grandfather, or fine 
your liver ten d.ollars and costs ! Vicarious atonement and 
suffering for the sins and bad blood of your ancestors is 
deucedly unfair. But I've no kick coming, so far. The rather 
exciting current of my ancestral blood has flowed through 
pleasant places. (Laughing.) Great Bacchus and Venus ! I 
sure have had one hell of a good time ! I owe my ancestors 
for lots of fun — they must have been damned busy people, as 
well as moneymakers. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing, and seating himself at desk.) 
Granted, Sir Profligate ! But there must have been a good 
streak somewhere. If it ever comes to the top you'll be a 
model citizen, in spite of yourself. 

Hartwell. 
(Mockingly.) 

Oh, help ! — But, seriously, Gilbert, are you really contented 
here? 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Thoughtfully.) 
In great measure, yes. I sometimes wish I now had the money 



56 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

and position I one day probably will have, but only because 
I could use them to do more and better work. But I'm recon- 
ciled to remaining in the slums so long as I'm laying the foun- 
dation for my life work. 

[Hurdy-gurdy is seen, and heard dis- 
cordantly playing "In Old Neiv York" 
outside of front -ciniidozc. HarTwEix 
laughs. Dr. Allyn rings for Matsada, 
zaho promptly appears, at door at right.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Handing Matsada a piece of money.) 

Here, Matsada, give this to that music butcher and chase him 
away ! 

Matsada. 
(Taking money.) 
Yis, sar. 

[Matsada starts toivard door at left. 
Organ grinder's monkey appears on zvin- 
dozv sill, cap in hand.] 

Hartwell. 

(To Matsada, laughing.) 

Give it to Grafto, the Monk. 

[Matsada drops money in monkey's 
cap.] 

Matsada. 
(Calling out of the ivlndozv.) 
Better you go 'way, pretty much damn quick ! 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 57 

[Monkey disappears. 

Exit Matsada at door at right. 
Sound of liurdy-gurdy moves on and 
dies out in distance.] 

Hartwell. 
(Resuming witJi spirit.) 
Your sentiments are very pretty, my boy — which can't be 
said of your music — but why not get into a decent neighbor- 
hood and hve Hke a gentleman? A nice office and an automo- 
bile wouldn't interfere with your delving into the human 
muck heap. The machine might help you to see more of it. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Apologetically, glancing about.) 
Oh, that will all come about some day. I don't live very 
sumptiously, I'll admit. Aly only luxury is Matsada and he's 
indispensable. Being a bachelor, a maid would be unconven- 
tional — and I don't like any of our domesticated breeds of 
man-servant. 

HartwEll. 
(Sneeringly.) 

I should call Matsada a disagreeable necessity rather than a 

luxury. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Not at all. He's intelligent and talks little ; he's faithful, is 
learning rapidly and is teaching me jiu jitsu. He has even 
become a fair surgical dresser. (Laughing.) He blows him- 
self up with chemicals every day or two, but chemicals are 
cheap and I haven't much furniture to burn, so I don't mind 
that. 



55 THH BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

(Shrugging slioulders.) 
Well, every man to his taste. (Grimly.) Let's hope that 
Matsada's curiosity may yet be the death of him. — But have 
you no desire for society? 

Dr. Allyn. 
No; and as for the upper world in general (Smiling), well, 
I don't need to seek it. You bring it to my very door — and 
sometimes, my dear boy, the underworld does not suffer by 
comparison. 

HartwEll. 
(Laughing.) 
A hit — a very palpable hit ! 

[Bell rings. Matsada enters at right 
and anszvers ring. Both gentlemen look 
inquiringly toivard door at left.] 



Male Voice;. 



Is Dr. -Allyn in? 



Matsada. 
(Bozving obsequiously.) 
No, sar; yis, sar. Please to make enter, sar. 

[Matsada, still bowing obsequiously, 
ushers in Mr. Carringford and Miss 
Carrinc.ford. Matsada stares wonder- 
ingly at Miss Carringford.] 

Hartwfxl. 
(Aside to Dr. Allyn.j 
I have a hunch that here's some society I did not bring to your 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 59 

door. It's your blue stocking, I'll bet a hat. I feel it in 

my bones. 

[Hartwell grabs tray and bottles 
and hides them under desk. Remains 
politely standing above doctor's desk 
chair, zvith right hand on back of same, 
looking toivard visitors.^ 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Rushing to meet his visitors and greeting them 

effusively.) 
Well ; of all things ! Miss Carringf ord ! Mr. Carringf ord ! 
This is a surprise. (Shakes finger at Miss C.) See here, 
young lady, didn't I tell you not to attempt getting about on 
that ankle without my permission? 

Mr. Carringford. 
(Bluffly.) 

Just what I told her, Doctor. But she insisted on trying the 
experiment and surprising you, and I had to surrender — as I 
always do. 

Miss Carringford. 

But, Doctor, my foot is perfectly well, and you know it. If 
father hadn't been so fussy about it you'd have had me out 
long ago. I suspect you and he have been plotting against me. 

[Miss Carringford smiles affection- 
ately at her father and pats him on the 
cheek.] 



6o THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Mr. Carringford. 
(IVith mildly despairing gesture.) 
You see, Doctor, who's boss at my house. Pity the woes of 
the father of a strong-minded daughter. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Pity the woes of the physician with a self-willed patient. But 
permit me to introduce my friend, Mr. Hartweh, Miss Car- 
ringford, and Mr. Carringford. 

[Hart WELL aiid visitors step toward 
each other.] 

Miss HartwEll. 
(Bozving formally.) 
I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Hartwell. 

Mr. Carringford. 
(Heartily, shaking hands vigorously.) 
Glad to know you, sir. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Quietly, regarding HartwEll attentively.) 
If I am not mistaken, I have heard Dr. Allyn speak of you, 
Mr. Hartwell. 

Hartwell. 
(Gallantly.) 

Vm sure that Pve heard the doctor speak of you, IMiss Car- 
ringford — so enthusiastically that I suspect you are one of 
his star patients. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 6i 

Aliss Carringford. 
(Siniling and turning tozvard the doctor.) 
If the doctor's generosity is equal to his skill, I'm sure I've 
not suffered by anything he has said of me. 

Hartwell. 
(Bowing politely.) 
1 assure you that you have not, Miss Carringford. (Turning 
to Dr. Allyn.) And now, Gilbert, that I can leave you in 
better hands, I'll be going. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Why hurry? It's early yet. 

Hartv^Ell. 

I promised to drop in at the club this evening and as you 
no longer need me to help you kill time, I can, with a clear 
conscience, keep my engagement. And so I will say good 
night. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Calmly, studying HartwEll.j 
I hope we may meet you again, Mr. Hart well. 

Mr. Carringford. 
(Cordially.) 
Here, too, sir. 

Hartwell. 
(Genially.) 
If you ever get the doctor to call socially I shall beg the 



62 THE BLOOD OF THB FATHERS 

pleasure of calling with him. (Laughing.) But I warn you, 
he's a hard nut to crack. 



Miss Carringford. 

(Enthusiastically, turning to the doctor and smil- 
ing sweetly.) 
But he already has promised to call ! — and (Perfunctorily, 
turning to Hartwell.^ I'm sure he'll also promise to bring 
you with him, sometime. 



I surely will. 



Dr. Allyn. 

[They excJiangc good-nights, and 
Hartwell leaves, by door at left. Mat- 
SADA sJiozvs him out. Hartwell stops 
for a second at exit. Looks back and 
smiles, sign i fie an tly.^ 



HartwEll. 
(To himself, sneeringly.) 
Submerged her sex, eh? Blood all turned to ice-water! All 
run to intellect ! I see breakers ahead, my precious pair of 
brainies. 

[Exit HartzvelL] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Gallantly proffering a chair to Miss Carring- 
ford, zvh.o seats herself.) 
Won't you remove your coat, Mr. Carringford? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 63 

Mr. Carringford. 
I believe not, thank you, Doctor. It's hardly worth while, 
as we can remain but a few moments. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Matsada, another chair, 

Matsada. 
(Aside.) 

But the books, honorable Doctor? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Aside.) 

Dump 'em on the floor. (To the Carringfords.) I have an 
awful time pounding order into Matsada. 

Matsada. 
(Raising hands protestingly.) 
Holy Buddha! 

[Mr. Carringford smiles indulgently 
and Miss Carringford laughs juerrily.] 

[Matsada dumps books and papers, 
contents of chair, on floor. With mouth 
agape he curiously surveys Miss Car- 
ringford and brings the chair. Return- 
ing to books and papers, proceeds to pile 
them up on the floor as they were on the 
chair. Mr. Carringford seats himself.'] 

Dr. Allyn. 
That's all, Matsada. 



64 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

[Matsada, his self-imposed task half 
done, leaves, by door at right, slozvly and 
reluctantly. At the door lie turns zvith 
hand on knob and again surveys the 
young woman.] 

Matsada. 
(To himself, sorrowfully shaking his head.) 
This is not yet to be the honorable bkie whiskers lady. 
[Exit Matsada.] 

Mr. Carringford. 
I don't wonder you were surprised by our late call. If you 
were not a doctor it would have been too unceremonious for 
explanation. As it is, you'll have to strain a point in charity 
for rather unconventional people. 

Dr. Allyn. 

I'm more than surprised, I'm gratified; and as for conven- 
tions, I know them not. 

Mr. Carringford. 
But, all the same, I didn't want to call at this unholy hour and 
disturb a busy man, who probably is tired and has something 
else to do besides entertaining visitors. Unlike my head- 
strong daughter, here, I feel that there's always another day 
coming. But when she says go, her old dad goes, and that's 
all there is to it. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 

And sometimes she insists on going with you? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 6$ 

Miss Carringford. 
(Archly.) 

If you are sorry, she will go right home. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Warmly.) 
Pray don't. If you try to do so I'll lock the door. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Laughing.) 

Then I'll submit. A doctor's office would not be a cheerful 
prison. 

[Door hell rings. Matsada enters at 
right and anszvers bell.] 



(E.vcitcdly.) 
Is Doc in? 

No, sar. Yis, sar, 



Malk Voice;. 



Matsada. 



[Officer RaffKrty brushes past Mat- 
sada and rushes in. Officer's hand bleed- 
ing and done up in handkerchief.] 

RaffeRTy. 
(B.vcitedly.) 

One o' thim dam dagoes got me in the hand, Doc ! 

[Dr. Allyn hurries to meet officer, 
examines hand briefly. Matsada looks 
on with interest.] 



dd THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 

Nothing serious, Rafferty, my boy. Alatsada, dress the gen- 
tleman's wound. 

[Matsada motions officer to follozv 

him Olid they disappear behind screen. 

The Carringfords regard scene zvith 

great interest.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Returning to gnests.) 
Pardon the interruption. 

Mr. Carringford. 
(Continuing.) 
My conscience might be easier in disturbing you, Doctor — 
for I'm here with the double purpose of meeting you socially 
and talking over certain matters which may interest you per- 
sonally — were it not that I fear you may think me imperti- 
nent in poking my nose into your afifairs. But you will, I'm 
sure, take for granted the friendliness of my motives. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Most assuredly. You have carte blanche to say anything you 
like. (Smilingly turns to Miss Carringford.^ With such a 
fair witness present, I'm sure you'll not be too harsh with 
me. 

Mr. Carringford. 

But the witness is biased. She was an active collaborator in 
the matter I have to lay before you. 



THU BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 67 

Miss Carringford. 
(Smxl'mg.) 

And now papa is sure of an audience, isn't he? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Surer is the word. ]\Ir. Carringford honors me by desiring 
an audience with me on any subject. 

]\Ir. Carringford. 
Thank you, sir. And now to the matter in point. It is hard- 
ly necessary for me to tell you that I greatly appreciate the 
skill and attention you have devoted to my daughter. In ad- 
dition, however, permit me to say that your personal quali- 
ties have greatly appealed to both Miss Carringford and my- 
self. 

Dr. Allyn. 
That is indeed a compliment. 

Mr. Carringford. 
It was not so intended, my dear sir, but as a plain statement 
of fact. (Abntptly.) How long have you been practicing 
in this locality, Doctor? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Five years. I located here immediately after leaving the 
hospital. 

Mr. Carringford. 

Don't you think that you've buried yourself and your talents 
about long enough? Isn't it time that — 

['Phone rings. Doctor ansu'ers.'] 



68 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Rafferty. 
(Behind screen.) 
Holy Moses! Be aisy, you spalpeen! 

Matsada. 
Yis, sar — thank you, sar. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(At 'pJionc.) 

Hello! Hel— lo! Yes, this is the doctor. Oh, Mrs 

Jenkins, eh ? Why, what's the matter with the bill ? 

Fifteen dollars is too much ! Why, 

madam, you astonish me! Weighed only five 

pounds ! Yes, but 

[While the doctor is talking over the 
wire, Miss Carringford is laughing 
quietly, not only at the doctor's remarks, 
hut at her father, zvho is greatly discom- 
posed.] 

Mr. Carringford. 
(Aside to his daughter, raising his hands in hor- 
rified protest.) 
I fear, Helen, that — 

Miss Carringford. 
(Aside to her father, laughing.) 
You mustn't mind a little thing like that, daddy dear. I'm a 
slum worker, you know, and I'm not easily shocked. 

[Mr. Carringford shakes his head 
and raises his hands deprecatingly.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 69 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing at 'phone.) 
Good Lord ! j\Irs. Jenkins, I'm not a butcher, but how many 
pounds did you order? — 

[Mr. Carringford attempts to speak. 
Miss Carringford laiigliingly pats him 
on the arm.] 

Miss Carringford. 
(Aside to father.) 
Pshaw ! Daddy, I've washed and dressed lots of them. 

Mr. Carringford. 
What! 

Miss Carringford. 
(Playfully putting her finger on her father's lip 
and looking tozvard the doctor.) 
S— sh ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing at 'phone.) 
I charged the Thompson's only twenty-five dollars for two ! 
Yes, but they were twins — (Satirically.) popular brand, you 
know — two for twenty-five. (Disgustedly.) All right, make 
it ten! 

[Slams receiver up on hook and goes 
to guests.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
You were saying, Mr. Carringford— 



70 THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Mr. Carringford. 

I was about to ask if you did not think it was time that you 
sought a larger and more profitable field, one more suited to 
your abilities? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Why, my dear sir, how could I be better situated than here 
for the prosecution of my special work— here, where I can 
get close to the very heart of things? I'm studying at close 
range the conditions of the under-dog — of the unfit, hoping 
I may do something for him. Out of the ranks of the slum 
children our criminals are chiefly recruited. Where could I 
find a finer field of observation than here, where vice and 
crime go hand in hand with poverty, filth, ignorance and dis- 
ease? 

Mr. Carringford. 

But why is it necessary to have your base of operations in 
such surroundings? It's bad enough to do as Helen does — 
(Helen smiles significantly at Dr. Allyn) and make excursions 
into the slums or bring 'em to your back door. You really 
ought to see some of her pensioners who call around regu- 
larly. 

Dr. Allyn. 

But by practicing among them I gain the confidence of the 
people I wish to study — and I also feel that they need me. 

Mr. Carringford. 

Need! — Fiddlesticks! If you'll pardon my saying so, that's 
the egotism you doctors all have. Candidly, I think one doctor 
is about as good as another for practical results in the slums. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 71 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 

Yet you yourself seem to assign some importance to the per^ 
sonal equation in your relations to my profession. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Clapping her hands and laiiglnng.) 
Ah, ha ! he had you there, daddy dear. 

Mr. Carringford. 
(Rising.) 
I'm not so sure that he had me there. The people one meria i»» 
this neighborhood probably don't care a rap about the per- 
sonal equation. I doubt if the doctor himself is concerned 
with the impression he makes on them. They want relief and 
he wants to study theni, and there you are. The trouble with 
you, Doctor, is that you have an idea that you must crucify 
yourself in order to do good. Well, you've served your ap- 
prenticeship at the martyr business — had your baptism of 
fire — and it's time for you to look out for your own interests 
a bit. Besides, even admitting that you're on the right track — 
and I'm not going to argue the point — I've found by experi- 
ence at home that it's useless — (Looks at danghter and smiles; 
Miss Carringford laughs.) you need money for your work. 
Money is the sinews of war. Why, even the preachers must 
have money or they can't fight the devil — and they have a small 
contract compared with yours. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing heartily.) 
Well, I'm assailed from all sides. My friend, Hartwell, ho-d 



72 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

just finished laboring with me along similar lines as you came 
in. 

Miss Carringford. 

I don't know what arguments your friend used — worldly ones, 
I dare say — but I think father is right, even though he does 
lay too much stress on the fleshpots. 

Dr. Allyn. 

What chance have I now ? The law, the lady and the wizard 
of finance! Really, if this keeps up I'll be compelled to give 
up practice and go into trade. 

[]\Iatsada comes from bcliind screen 

with officer and shozvs him out, at left. 

Returns and leaves room by door at 

right.] 

Mr. Carringford. 

(Grimly, glancing significantly at Matsada and 

officer.) 
That would be too practical and sensible for a dreamer, and 
especially for a doctor. Your profession is so afraid of the 
accusation of being businesslike that it's no wonder it's poor. 
There are, to be sure, shining and not always admirable ex- 
ceptions, but they merely prove the rule. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Protestingly.) 
But, my dear Mr. Carringford, I fear you don't quite appre- 
ciate the true professional spirit — or professional duty. 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 73 

Mv. Carringford. 
(With enthusiasm.) 
Don't I, though? Appreciate it! Why, the grandest man and 
easiest mark I ever knew was a doctor — the real old fashioned 
kind — in the little village where I was born. Everybody loved 
old Doctor Cochrane — and imposed on him. For forty years 
the old man had been dosing people in that township, but he 
never got much out of life for himself. He'd been too un- 
selfish ever to think of that. ]\Iany a time I've known that 
dear old man to get out of bed and go driving through snow 
drifts up to his horse's flanks, to relieve somebody or other 
of some fool pain that would have kept all right till morning. 
And he didn't draw the line on anybody. He amended the 
Golden Rule to read : Do unto others as you would that they 
would do unto you, an' do it gosh dinged quick ! He never 
let the women and children suffer because the men were fools 
— or rascals. The old doctor went on, introducing new-born 
babes to their parents ; smiling at his own aches and pains and 
poulticing ours; advising the young and consoling the old; 
pulling teeth and lancing gums ; putting store clothes on fam- 
ily skeletons and whitewashing reputations — so they would 
look handsome to the neighbors — until he fell in harness. 
(Feelingly.) We gave the old man a splendid funeral, but the 
nearest he ever got to what was coming to him was the shin- 
ing of the sun and moon and the beating of the rain and snow 
on his grave. Possibly the angels perched on his tomb and 
sang peans of praise over him ; but that didn't raise the mort- 
gage on his farm or help his widow to pay the interest. Oh, 
yes ! I know all about the professional duty idea. It went 
all right in that little village, but it won't do as a steady diet 
in New York. Keep your ideals. Doctor, but for heaven's 
sake tinge them with a little practicality. 



74 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Thoughtfully.) 
Possibly you're right, Mr. Carringford. But changing my 
location prematurely would be like launching out into un- 
known seas, and failure would be worse than shipwreck. I've 
saved no more than enough to make a fair start. 

Mr. Carringford. 
But you'll not fail. I'll help you succeed — I'll make you suc- 
ceed. I can do so with a clear conscience, for I know your 
skill. A few good patients to begin with and the trick is done. 
These, I think, my influence will supply. (Laughing.) I will 
aid you to assess the predatory rich — a little depletion will do 
us good. Then, like the brigand of the classics, you can give 
to the poor what you take from the plutocrats. Think it over, 
Doctor. (Looking at his ivatcJi.) And now we must be going. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Rising and extending hand and looking appcal- 
ingly at Dr. Allyn.j 
You -tvill think it over, won't you, Doctor? 

,„ .,. , Dr. Allvn. 

(Snitling.) 

I promise you that I will at least consider your father's kind 

offer, for I'm sorely tempted. 

[Rings bell. Matsad.^ appears.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Matsada, my coat and hat. 

[Matsada gets coat and hat, clumsily 
upsetting chair and books. Assists doc- 



THB BLOOD OF THE PATIIERS 75 

tor on ivith coat. Doctor gets his 
satchel.'] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing.) 
I've a call to make, Mr. Carringford, which, after your descrip- 
tion of the old country doctor's life, will be an easy task, 

Mr. Carringford. 
Can't we take you in our machine to see your patient? 

Dr. Allyn. 
You're very kind, but I've only a short distance to go, and 
besides, (Laughing.) I mustn't put on style. I'd lose caste, and 
get into bad habits. 

Mr. Carringford. 
We'll take that up later. 

[Exit everybody, laughing. Murmnr 
of voices of party heard outside as they 
are leaving. 

Matsada stands in middle of room 
looking after the party. He shakes his 
head deprecatingly.] 

Matsada. 
Honorable doctor very much foolishness ! Pretty lady mucli 
damn quick cure foolishness. 

CURTAIN. 



THE SECOND ACT 



THE SECOND ACT 



TIME — Tzvo years later. A winter evening. 
SCENE: 

Dr. AUyn's library and consultation room at his residence on 
Madison Avenue. 

Typic library furnishings. The quality of the library furnish- 
ings, books, pictures and curios shoivs prosperity and 
refinement. 

Pretentious table desk at right center with rozv of drazvers on 
each side. Desk is littered zvith books and papers. 
Student lamp on desk. Elegant Turkish rug at left of 
desk. Library inkstand, paper-cutter, penholders, pen- 
cils, blotting pad, tobacco, pipe, ash tray, human skidl 
beside open book, large callipers, leather-covered photo- 
graph case, 'phone and call bell zvith push-button for 
same on desk. Electrolier above desk, button for same 
hanging by cord over desk. Open fireplace at left. 

Wide curtained exit, curtains open at left of center in rear, 
shozving reception hall. Small cabinet zvith double 
doors, on top of zvhich are liquors in decanters and 
cigars in glass jars, alongside fireplace. Four elegant 
leather covered library chairs, one desk chair at left of 
desk, tzvo easy chairs, one at right and one belozv desk. 
Wastebasket under desk. Numerous framed certifi- 
cates, diplomas and portrait engraznngs on the zvalls. 
Large geographic globe in corner. Modern filing cabinet 
at right, up stage. 

79 



8o THB BLOOD Of THli PAT HERS 

An alcove room — laboratory — zv'ifJi double sliding door and 
portieres at right of center in rear, shozving a Jtigli zvork 
table zvith scales, retorts, test-tubes, several large bottles 
and a large microscope upon it. liigJi stool in front of 
table. Lying on the table are several books, one book 
open. Slielves above table contain various colored fluids 
and pozvders. 

Hat rack and umbrella-stand at center in rear, zvith automo- 
bile cap, coat, several hats and umbrellas. Large 
couch zvithout back, left of center, doivn stage. 

Double zvindozv in curtained recess at right, zinth curtains al- 
most completely open. Elegant Turkish rug before this 
zvindozv. Library bookcase zvith books in zvall at left, 
np stage. Grandfather clock at right, dozvn stage. 
Cabinet on zvall in rear at right of center, zvith rozv of 
human skulls. Large modern safe against zvall at left, 
dozvn stage. 

Dr. Allyn is seen sitting on high stool 
at table in laboratory, at zvork zvith mic- 
roscope, making notes from time to time 
on zvriting pad. Matsada is quietly put- 
ting desk in order, studiously avoiding 
skull — zvith evident dread of it. From 
time to time he stops, glances zvith puz- 
zled expression alternately from skull to 
doctor and from doctor to skull. He 
finally shakes his head, as though giving 
lip the problem. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 8i 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Stopping to make a note and zvithout looking up.) 
Leave a little disorder, Matsada. Too much system embar- 
rasses me. And be careful of that skull. Better put the gen- 
tleman back with the rest of the family. 

Matsada. 
Yis, sar. 

{Throivs handkerchief over skull and 
gingerly picks it up zvith both hands, 
holding it away from hint and averting 
his head as if dreading an explosion.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Glancing tip.) 
Tut ! tut ! Matsada ; that's a Russian. Surely you're not 
afraid to manhandle a Russian! 

Matsada. 
(Loudly, but still averting head.) 
N — ^no, sar! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
Why don't you jiu jitsu him? Try that last grip you taught 
me. 

[Returns to microscope.] 

Matsada. 
(Flurriedly.) 
Y — yis, sar. 



82 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

[Skull slips from his Jiatids and strikes 
floor. He stands helplessly looking at 
skull.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Sternly, glancing up, wheeling about on stool 
and facing jMatsada.] 
Mind what you're doing, Matsada ! This is not a bowling al- 
ley. 

[Matsada scrambles after skull, picks 
it up, zvith averted face, and holds it at 
arms' length.] 

Matsada. 

Excuse to me, please, honorable doctor. I have not him to 
hurt. He is still to be very well. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 

All right, Matsada, if he's very well put him in his proper 
place in the cabinet. 

[Resumes zvork.] 



Thank you, sar. 



Matsada. 

[Matsada, unth one eye on the doctor, 
azvkzvardly and fearfully picks up skull, 
slyly puts it in zvaste basket, pushing 
basket far under desk, and resumes put- 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 83 

ting desk and room in order. Shies like 
a horse at cabinet containing skulls. 
Hazing finished his task, he turns tozvard 
cabinet and zvorks fingers as though he 
would like to perform jiu jitsu on sktdls.] 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Bxidtingly, half rising.) 
Ah, ha ! I've got you at last, you little rascal ! 

Matsada. 

(Starting as if caught in some forbidden act.) 
Y — Yis, sar! 

[Doctor drazvs picture of object under 
microscope.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Delightedly, still sketching.) 
And to think, Matsada, that I almost overlooked him ! 

Matsada. 
Yis, sar. 

{Looks beneath furniture, out in hall 
and behind curtains, tJien stands be- 
wildered.] 

Matsada. 
But, honorable doctor, I do not honorable rascal to see. 



84 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Laughing, leaving microscope and entering library.) 
Well, Matsada, I doubt if you'd recognize that little germ if 
you did see him. I may have some trouble in convincing the 
Academy of his identity. Did any one 'phone while I was at 
dinner? 

Matsada. 

Yis, sar. Mees Car Mees Car 



Dr. Allyn. 



Miss Carringford? 



Matsada. 
Yis, sar, that is him. She say it she will come here at the 
nine o'clock. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Looking at his zvatcli.) 
Oh, indeed ! And why didn't you tell me without my ask- 
ing? 

Matsada. 

(Shrugging shoulders.) 
Because honorable doctor to everybody have say it is not good 
to make speak with him when he is look through honorable 
brass eye. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing, approaches desk.) 
You're a bit too literal at times, Matsada. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 85 

Matsada. 
Yis, sar. Thank you, sar, 

[Matsada affects putting room in 
order. Doctor scats himself and looks 
for something on desk. Matsada stops 
before cabinet containing liquors and ci- 
gars. Gases at it longingly.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Without looking up, and reading memoranda 
zvliich he has found.) 
Help yourself, Matsada. 

Matsada. 
(Grinning, and taking cigar.) 
Yis, sar. Thank you, sar. 

[Repairs to anteroom, stops at exit, 
noisily scratches a match and ivould 
light cigar.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Looking up.) 
Here, you yellow peril ! Don't ever let me catch you smoking 
in my anteroom. I won't permit that, even to save the Philip- 
pines. 

[Exit Matsada by reception hall, with 
gesture of despair. 

Doctor Allyn resumes zvriting. Enter 
Ross HartwEll, at door of reception 
hall, silently ushered in by Matsada, 
who evidently has met him at the door. 



86 THB BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Hartwell tosses overcoat and hat to 
Matsada, motions to him to remain si- 
lent, stops just ivitJiin entrance and sur- 
veys doctor and room. Smiles knowing- 
ly. Finally concentrates attention on 
doctor. Matsada glances after Hart- 
well^ zvorks fingers suggestively and 
disappears, via reception hall.] 

HartwEll. 
Still at it, I see. I hoped you'd mended your ways. 

[Joyously advances tozvard doctor.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Springing to his feet and rushing to meet HartwEll.j 
Great Scott ! old man, when did you return ? 

[TJiey shake hands zvarmly.] 

Hartwell. 
I landed in New York just a week ago. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Reproachfully.) 
Do you mean to tell me that you've been in town a week with- 
out seeing me or even calling me up? 

Hartwell. 
(Smiling.) 

Precisely. I didn't propose to disturb you until I could see 
you in person. I've been so busy looking after my fences that 
this is the first time I've had a chance to look you up. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 8; 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Witli mock seriousness.) 
Well, I don't know whether to forgive you or not. 

Hartwell. 

You might as well, Gilbert, for I'm sure you need me — I'm 
still restful to the real mind. 

Dr. Allyn. 
The same old sixpence, I see. 

Hartwell. 

Sure; they wouldn't have me, even for a tip, on the other 
side. Europe is getting fastidious. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Really? I thought our gilded heirs were as much in demand 
over there as our heiresses. 

Hartwell, 

Don't you ever believe it. Our heiresses make peerages come 
back as good as new ; — our heirs use 'em for advertising pur- 
poses. I know one chap who married into the aristocracy 
and used the family coat-of-arms to boom a corn-plaster — 
which was bad for the self-respect of the corn plaster. 
{Doctor lau-ghs heartily. 
Hartwell drops into doctor's desk 
chair and lays back in it very much at his 
ease.] 



88 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

HartwEll. 
Well, my boy, things have changed since we broke into Fifth 
Avenue society. How's the aristocratic practice game pan- 
ning out? ( Looking about at room.) It looks good to me. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Earnestly, seating himself on corner of desk.) 
Ross, it is good — not so good as it looks, perhaps, but still 
the move was a wise one. I owe much to the good friends 
who influenced me to change — and to you as much as to any- 
one. 

HartwEll. 

Humph ! You don't owe me anything. My advice was pure- 
ly selfish. I was trying to get you out of your slum philan- 
thropy stunts so that we could meet more nearly on a level. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 

Just wanted to bring me down to earth, eh? 

Hartwdll. 
Precisely. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Seriously.) 
Sorry to disappoint you, my boy, but you made a failure 
of it. 

Hartwdll. 

So I'm aware. You've been a mighty poor correspondent — 
never would write about yourself — when you wrote at all — 
but I've kept tab on you, just the same. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 89 

Dr. Allyn. 

(With some astonishment.) 
Kept tab on me ! 

HartwEll. 

Sure, Pro — fess — or. That fool book of yours was reviewed 
in the London papers. 

Dr.. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
Well, I'm mighty glad to hear that. 

HartwEll. 

Glad you are glad. If it pleases you to be branded as a full- 
fledged criminology crank, along with the rest of your alleged 
attainments, make the most of it. Criminology ! Humph ! 
It's the biggest fool thing that ever permeated the brains of 
you crazy scientists. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Warmly, standing dozen from desk.) 
It's the greatest advance in the study of mankind that has 
been made in a hundred years. 

HartwEll. 

Advance ! Your Ferris, and Lombrosos, and Allyns are so 
clever that they can't even diagnose a criminal — until he has 
committed a crime. 



po THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
You old blunderbuss ! Neither can we diagnose smallpox 'till 
the patient breaks out. 

Hartwell. 
That's right, wriggle out of it. Then there's all that twaddle 
about degeneracy. Why, you have no normal standard, yet 
you pretend to know degeneracy when you see it. 

Dr. Allyn. 
We have no fixed standard of sanity, yet we know insanity 
when we see it. 

Hartwell. 
(Sarcastically.) 
Yes. I've noticed that in expert testimony. Now, will you be 
good? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Yes, but don't think that all experts are alike. The medical 
profession is not proud of some of them. 

Hartwell. 
Shouldn't think it would be. I heard an expert in London 
testify that a murderer was crazy because his jaw was 
crooked. The prisoner got back at him, though. Said that if 
he had a head like that doctor's he'd want to be hanged. 
Said it reminded him of a pumpkin hit with a club. (Noticing 
cabinet of skulls.) Hello! (Approaches cabinet and inspects 
skulls.) You must have a conscience like leather. (Turns to 
doctor.) Some of your professional failures, eh? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 91 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
No; some of yours. That's my murderers' row. They were 
all hanged — all but one — a lady who committed suicide. 

Hartwell. 
(Seriously, shrugging his sJioulders.) 
But the world is better for such legal failures — which can't 
be said of yours. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Gravely.) 
I'm not so sure — as to some of them. But you lawyers can 
save your faces by abolishing capital punishment — and help 
progress along at the same time. 

Hartwell. 

There you go ! So you don't believe in the rope and the 
electric chair? 

Dr. Allyn. 
No. 

Hartwell. 
Then, for God's sake, what do you believe in — bouquets and 
frosted cakes? 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Seriously.) 
Chloroform, perpetual isolation — and the surgeon's knife as 
a means of prevention of crime. But that's a long story. 
We'll take that up at some other time. 



g2 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Jestingly, going to HartwEll and opening skull 

cabinet.) 
Say, Ross, let me send the lady's skull to you. She was that 
Miss Castano, who murdered her lover in a fit of jealousy. 

Hartwell. 
(Laughing heartily.) 
What a charming companion she'd be for me, and how busy 
I'd keep her! 

Dr. Allyn. 

Haven't improved much, have you — to hear you tell it. 

Fortunately, I never did think you as much of a lady-killer 

as you'd have one believe. • I fancy I read you pretty well, 

-Ross. 

Hartwell. 
And does the reading inspire you with confidence? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Seriously, laying liand on HartwEll's shoulder.) 
It certainly does. 

Hartwell. 
Thank you. (Going above desk and glancing at safe.) A 
practical note seems to have crept into your philanthropy, 
Gilbert. The band must be playing the prosperity march in 
front of your door. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Closing cabinet and going to desk.) 
Well, I've got my head above water, and hope to keep it there. 
But you mustn't take that safe too seriously. 



THU BLOOD OF THE. FATHERS 93 

HarTWEll. 
(Going to safe and surveying it.) 
But what the deuce do you ? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Specimens, my boy; specimens. I have in that safe some that 
a thousand dollars wouldn't buy. 

Hartwell. 

Specimens ! — the devil ! A sort of pathologic cupboard, eh ? 
(Laughing.) Say, but wouldn't it be interesting if some 
Johnny Yegg should crack it? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Well, it would be bad business for Mr. Yegg if he let loose 
soinc of the things that are locked in that safe. If he didn't 
hold his breath, God help him ! 

Hartwell. 
(Shrugging his shoulders.) 
Ugh ! You give me the creeps. 

[Dr. Allyn goes to cabinet of liquors 
and cigars and picks up decanter.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Here, try an antidote. 

[Helps Hartwell and pours some 
ivhisky for Jiiuiself.] 



g4 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Hartwell. 
(Noting, in astonishment, the doctor's glass.) 
Holy smoke ! What's happened to you ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gaily.) 
As you remarked, things have changed since — 

Hartwell. 
(Smiling.) 
Ah, I see. We now have the price, and as we hve in Rome 
we — 

[They touch glasses.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Do as the Romans do. 

[Doctor offers Hartwell a cigar, 
takes one himself and they light up. 

Matsada is seen arranging chairs in 
reception hall.] 

Hartwell. 
(Noticing Matsada.J 
I see that you still have that snaky Jap. I've missed him 
and his seltzer explosions. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Yes, he's still with me — and still indispensable. 

Hartwell. 
And still teaching you jiu jitsu and the gospel of Buddha? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS gs 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 

Indeed he is. 

[They seat themselves.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing.) 

But, Sir Cross Examiner, you haven't told me anything about 
your own mad career during your two years abroad. 

HartwEll. 
(Flippantly.) 

Oh, that's easily done. I went everywhere, saw everything — 
and did everything that a gentleman of wealth and leisure 
could do — and keep out of jail. Kept out of the hospital be- 
cause I joined the appendicitis club before I left. If I over- 
looked any bets it must have been during my sleep — and I 
haven't much of that to my credit. If I should go blind to- 
morrow, there'd be nothing coming to Ross. 

Dr. Allyn. 
How did you ever tear yourself away from Paris? 

IIartwEll, 
(Satirically.) 
I didn't. You've noticed that when a leech is full he drops 
off. Well, I was the leech. But let me tell you, my boy, 
Paris hasn't anything on our own little village. 

Dr. Allyn. 
So you've come back home to fill in the gaps, eh ? 



g6 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Hartwell. 
Didn't I tell you there tverc no gaps? No; I came home to 
pursue the only novelty left — the practice of law and an imita- 
tion of a nice young man attending to business. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Enthusiastically.) 
What ! Do you really mean it ? 

Hartwell. 
Of course I mean it. It's the only thing left. I've squeezed 
the rest of the lemon dry. Just watch me, that's all. If I 
don't show you a pink of propriety attending to the world's 
work — poison me. And please don't call it reform. Damn 
reform ! Don't like the word. Expediency — turning over new 
leaf — anything you like but reform. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Extending hand.) 
By Jove ! old man, you won't be half so interesting, but for 
your sake I'm glad. 

[TJicy chisp hajids.] 

Hartwell. 
(Looking toward liquor cabinet.) 
And just to celebrate the resolution — 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Going to liquor cabinet, folloivcd by Hartwell.^ 
Indeed we will. 

[7 hey fill glasses.] 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 97 

Dr. Allyn. 
Here's to the brand plucked from the burning! 

Hartwe;ll. 

The brand that's going to stay pkicked, and don't you for- 
get it. 

[They touch glasses and drink. 'Phone 
rings.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Anszi'criug 'phone.) 

Hello!— Oh, hello! Dr. Marshall Yes, 

How would one o'clock strike you? Very good. 

And by the way, bring a nurse with you; we may need her. 
[While the doctor is talking over 
'phone, HartwivLL, first flipping ashes 
from hiis cigar, goes to book case and 
examines books, opening case. JVhen 
doctor concludes, Hartwi^ll closes case 
and turns about, facing the doctor, who 
sits on corner of desk. Both are still 
smoking, Hartwell standing very much 
at ease, one hand behind back.] 

Hartwkll. 
See here, Gilbert, how does it happen that you're not mar- 
ried? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Too busy, I reckon. 



p5 THU BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

HartwEll. 

And -have all the women been too busy? If you hadn't time 
to marry one of them you should have found one who had 
time to marry you. 

Dr. Allyn, 
But how about the inclination? 

Hartwell. 
(Flippontly.) 
That always exists, latent or otherwise. Have the latent 
variety myself. I'd cultivate it if I didn't love love too well. 
Matrimony is Venus' graveyard — and the old girl has been so 
kind to me that I don't want to bury her. (With sudden 
recollection.) By the way, what about that little romance I 
mapped out for you? What's become of Miss — you know, 
the philanthropist lady who submerged her sex and wrote 
things ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 

Miss Carringford? She's still on earth, still writing things — 
and her sex is still submerged. She has just written a re- 
markable book. 

[Hands book from desk to Hart- 
wEll.] 



HartwEll. 



(Taking book.) 
The deuce you say! 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 99 

[Reads title] 
The Slum Children. (Satirically.) It looks fascinating. 
The Slum Children ! Humph ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
It is fascinating. You really ought to read it. 

HartwEll. 
(Laying book on desk.) 
Thanks, dreadfully. Like most of your prescriptions, it's not 
to my taste. See the charming authoress often? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Almost daily. Her father died, shortly after you went abroad, 
and she took up nursing. She's now a visiting nurse and do- 
ing great work. 

HartwEll. 
As my lady of the slums, of course. 

Dr. Allyn. 
She's known as the angel of the slums. 

Hartwell. 
(Satirically.) 
You're still good friends — and nothing more? Merely a pla- 
tonic regard, and all that sort of thing? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
Yes, the best of friends — and nothing more. You, of course, 
don't believe in platonic regard. 



100 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Hartwell. 
(Snecringly.) 
Oh, yes I do. The world's full of it. It's a sort of congenial 
relation between a blind masculine blockhead and a woman 
who thinks she's a frost — but isn't. Sooner or later one or 
the other breaks the platonic ice and slumps through into 
deep water. And then there's hell to pay. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Laughing hcariily.) 
So, Sir Skeptic, you don't believe that platonic affection can 
stay platonic? 

Hartwell. 
Sure; if it is carried on by correspondence, neither party has 
money for car fare and the walking is bad. Even then, the 
writing would better be done on asbestos paper. Oh, hell ! 
Gilbert, when Adam and Eve shook the forbidden tree they 
didn't gather icicles. 

Dr. Allyn. 

But I can prove my point. I'm going to tell you a great 
secret. I'm engaged to be married. 

Hartwell. 
(Astonished.) 
The devil you are! And not to Miss Carringford? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
And not to Miss Carringford. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS loi 

HartwEll. 



Dr. Allyn. 



Have you told her? 

Not yet. 

HartwEll. 
Well, I'll be damned if I'll surrender until you have told her 
— and I know how she took it. For the Colonel's lady and 
Judy O'Grady are sisters under the skin. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Stuff and nonsense ! Like most lawyers, you think you're 
arguing when you're merely showing your obstinacy. Miss 
Carringford will be here shortly (Looks at clock.) and I shall 
tell her the news. 

HartwEll. 
And will you report results ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sloidy and gravely, standing dozvn from desk.) 
No. If I'm right I don't care to crow, and if you're right — 
well, if I've been blind I'll continue to be blind. 

HartwEll. 
And who's the lucky woman who has humanized our phil- 
osopher ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Granting that I needed humanizing, she's a young woman 
from Virginia who, while visiting in New York, was un- 
fortunate enough to be taken severely ill and to come under 
my professional care. 



102 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

HartwEll. 

Ah, I see ; the fair patient was so well pleased with her doctor 
that she gave him a life position. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 

Hardly that. She believed that I had saved her life — and 
may have felt that I was entitled to the salvage. It's barely 
possible that she fell in love with me? 

HartwEll. 
(Satirically.) 
And, of course, she has not only good blood and a corner 
on the beauty and brains market, but also wealth and social 
position. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Her father was a Confederate general, impoverished by the 
Civil War. Her social position is above criticism. Her 
cleverness will plead its own case when you meet her. (Smil- 
ing.) As for her beauty, you may judge for yourself. 

[Opens photograph case on the table, 
looks at it fondly, hands it to Hart- 
WELL and turns azvay to light cigar. 

Hartwell takes picture, looks at it 
and starts ivitJi surprise, half rising from 
his chair; controls himself ivith evident 
effort and gaaes at picture for a mo- 
ment without speaking.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE, FATHERS 103 

Hartwell. 
(With some trepidation.) 
And her name? 

Dr. Allyn, 
Duplessis — Kathryn Duplessis. (Curiously, noting Hart- 
wEll's apparent discomposure.) Have you ever met her? 

Hartwell, 
(Regaining composure and gazing calmly at picture.) 
No, but at first sight I was startled by her resemblance to 
someone I once knew. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Going to Hartwell and looking over his 

shoulder at picture.) 
Isn't it odd that one sees in faces one has never before seen, 
resemblances to persons one knows? When I first saw Kath- 
ryn I was startled by the familiar expression of her eyes and 
the suggestion in her features of some one I had known, yet 
I never by any possibility could have met her before. As to 
whom the person she resembles might be, I haven't the re- 
motest idea. 

Hartwell. 
(Looking up from picture.) 
Permit me to congratulate you on your good taste, Gilbert. 
(Laughing.) I begin to suspect that you're no novice. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(With mock deference.) 
A compliment indeed, king of connoisseurs ! And, Sir Cynic, 



104 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Miss Carringford had a hand in the affair. She nursed my 
fiancee through her illness. 



IIartwell. 
Miss Carringford ! 

Dr. Allyn. 

Yes; Miss Carringford— and there's the answer to some of 
your — 

HartwEll. 

(Interrupting; significantly, and again looking 
at plioiograph.) 
Yes; there's the answer. 

[Returns photograpli to doctor, n'Jio 
gazes at it fondly, and slozvly and re- 
luctantly closes case and lays it on desk. 
'PJione rings.] 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Anszvering 'phone.) 

Hello !— Oh, Hello, Bob ! Why, yes. I think I have 

the very thing you want. I'll look it up at once and make 
sure. — Call for it on your way to the hospital in the morning. 

I'll leave it on my desk. Ask ]\Iatsada for 

it. (Turns to HartwiJll.j Excuse me for a moment, Ross. 

[Goes to laboratory and disappears.] 

[Hartwf.ll rises and picks up cose, 

opens it, studying picture, nodding Jiis 

Jiead and satirically soliloquizing.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 105 

HartwEll. 
(To himself, resuming his scat, intently regarding picture.) 
So, Kathryn, dear — expert fisher of men — we meet again. 
(Sighs.) What a httle world ! Well, my good doctor man, 
you are up against it. I don't believe that Paris took any of 
the spirit out of you, girlie. If you ever take the bit between 
your teeth there'll be a runaway — and you'll land in the wrong 
stable. (Reflectively.) Why is it that when the wise guy's 
heart gets into a tussle w'ith his brains his wits fly out of the 
window ? 

[Ga::es admiringly at picture, holding 
it in botJi Iiands and leaning foriuard 
toivard it.'] 
(Continuing.) 

But, Kathryn, you're a peach, all the same — I wonder if — 
well, why not? No harm in renewing old acquaintance — and 
you were mighty entertaining. (Expostulates zcith himself.) 
Damn it, Ross, you'd better take another trip abroad ! I can 
see spots on that new leaf already. 

[Resolutely closes case and lays it on 
desk; hesitates, picks it up again, re- 
opens it and gazes admiringly at it. 
Hears Dr. Allyn coming, closes case 
and returns it to desk, shrugging his 
shoulders and rising. Picks up his hat 
and goes right, up stage, to meet the 
doctor.] 

HartwEll. 

(Gaily.) 
And now I'll say good night, Gilbert, and leave you with the 



io6 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

goddess of your dreams (Looking tozvard desk.) and (Looking 
tozvard skulls.) your trophies of the chase. 
[TJicy shake hands.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Good night, Ross, and don't forget that you're not yet for- 
given for your neglect. I shall expect you to redeem yourself. 
[Returns to desk.] 

HartwEll. 
ril try, my dear boy. Good night. 

[B.vit IIartwkll, via reception hall. 
He pauses at exit, just zvithin hall, and 
looks tozvard picture on desk.] 

HartwEll. 
(To himself.) 
I'll not butt in on your game, Kathryn — if you're real nice to 
mc. vSorry, old pal, but you'll have to take your medicine — 
and that new leaf will have to take its chances. 

[The doctor returns to desk, picks up 
case, opens it and gazes fondly at pic- 
ture.] . 

Dr. Allyn. 
(With emotion.) 
Beautiful? Yes — and as good as you are beautiful — far too 
good for a dry-as-dust like me. Ah ! Kathryn, my sweet ; you 
have indeed humanized me. 

[Kisses picture and reluctantly re- 
turns it to desk with case open.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 107 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Continuing, and sighing.) 

That wonderful day seems a long way off. (With emotion.) 

I can hardly wait. (Looks at clock and notices time.) It's 

almost time Miss Carringford was here. (Rings bell on desk.) 

[Enter j\IatSx\da, by door of reception 

hall.] 

Dr. Allyn, 
Matsada, I'm going to the drug store. If Miss Carringford 
comes before I return, tell her I shall be gone but a few mo- 
ments. 

Matsada. 
(Bozving loiv.) 
Yis, sar. 

[Dr. Allyn takes hat and coat from 
rack, dons coat, assisted by Matsada, 
and departs via reception hall. 
Matsada follows the doctor. 
A moment later ]\Iiss Carkingford 
enters by door of reception hall, shown 
in by Matsada. JVhilc jMatsada is talk- 
ing they move dozen stage to desk.] 

Matsada. 
(Obsequiously.) 
Honorable doctor has to drug store gone. He will much quick 
come back. He have say to me please to make wait the honor- 
able lady. 

[Matsada shozvs Miss Carringford 



io8 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

to chair beloiv desk, placing it toivard 
front of desk, and turning it in such a 
position that Miss Carringford cannot 
fail to observe Miss Duplessis' photo- 
graph. Exit Matsada at right.] 

Miss Carringford. 
(Seating herself and glancing at lier ivotch.) 
I'm a little ahead of time. (Notes picture, picks it up and 
looks at it mournfully.) But not ahead of you, who have won 
that for which I would have given my life. (Rises, picture in 
hand. JVitli emotion.) And to think that I assisted in my 
own undoing. (Abruptly lays doivn picture.) Duty! I did 
my duty — and at what cost ! It was bad enough during all 
those dreary months before she came, to know that he did 
not love me — but it was some consolation to know that he 
loved no one else — there at least was liope. But now, my 
king! (JVith great emotion, moz'ing about.) And you think 
I do not know ! How little you understand the ways of 
women — of the woman who loves, or of the woman who, 
whether she loves or not, sets out to win — at any cost. 

[Returns to desk and again picks up 
photo. Looks at it steadily. 

Enter Matsada at right and crosses to 
door at left. He stops at door and ad- 
miringly surveys Miss Carringford.] 

Matsada. 
(To himself.) 
Honorable doctor very much damn foolishness ! 
[Exit Matsada.] 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 109 

Miss Carringford. 
(Continuing, tlioiightfnUy.) 
Beautiful, vivacious, superb of physique — designed to mother 
a race of heroes, but spoiled in the crowning. (Shakes her 
head.) Something wrong with the gray matter. There's an 
expression in those wonderful eyes and about that lovely 
mouth that makes me fear for you, my Gilbert. There's a 
cobra amid the blooms of that fair garden. A frivolous, vain, 
selfish, pleasure-seeking woman — a creature without balance. 
(With great emotion.) Oh, God! Would that I could believe 
my judgment perverted by jealousy ! 

[Sets photograph on desk and walks 
about ivith expression of strong emotion. 
Returns to desk and picks up photo.] 

(Continuing grimly.) 
Heaven help you, Kathryn Duplessis, if you ever deceive Gil- 
bert Allyn. He's not the kind that deals gently with cobras — 
and he might forget himself. 

[Returns photo to desk zvitJi a hope- 
less gesture, crosses to book case, takes 
out book, opens it and carelessly glances 
through it. Dr. Allyn enters via re- 
ception hall. Miss Carringford turns 
and sees doctor, who is removing his 
coat and does not see her. She replaces 
book in case, closing case.] 

Miss Carringford. 
Good evening. Doctor, 



no THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Warmly, going to Miss Carringford and ex- 
tending hand.) 
Miss Carringford ! I'm delighted to see you. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Sliaking hands, and smiling sadly.) 
You're very kind, Doctor. You're always kind — so kind that 
I fear you sometimes permit me to impose on you. 

Dr. Allyn, 
(IVarmly, showing her to a seat and seating him- 
self in desk chair.) 
That would be impossible, Miss Carringford. I feel that 
your father and yourself have placed me under an obligation 
I never can repay — to say nothing of the inspiration your 
work has been to me. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Smiling sadly.) 
You overrate both my father's influence and my own capaci- 
ties, but I'm glad if you feel that we've had any part in your 
career. It has been both pleasurable and profitable to me to 
assist you in your work. But I've come to tell you that I'll 
not be able to again cooperate with you, for a long time. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Indeed! What's happened? 

Miss Carringford. 
(Calmly.) 
I'm going to the Philippines. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS in 

Dr. Allyn. 



(Astonished.) 
To the Philippines! 



Miss Carringford. 



Yes; to the Philippines — to get material. I'm going to re- 
sume my literary work. I'm getting rusty. 

Dr. Allyn. 

I shall be very sorry to see you go. I shall miss you dread- 
fully, Helen. 

Miss Carringford. 
(Smiling.) 
Are you sure you're in a frame of mind to miss a mere 
friend? (Looks significantly at photograph..) 

[Dr. Allyn follo7vs direction of Miss 
Carrington's ga.':e and notes the open 
photograph.] 
(Laughing.) 

Oh, ho! So the cat is out of the bag! How careless of me 
to leave that case open. I meant to surprise you, Helen. 

Miss Carringford. 

Fm astonished that you think you conld surprise a woman 
who has been on the ground ever since your romance began. 

(Watching Miss Carringford narrozvly.) 
Why, did you suspect that — 



112 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Miss Carringford. 

(Trying to force a siiiilc.) 
I did not suspect — I knew. 

Dr. Allyn. 
But how — 

Miss Carringford. 
How? How? How do women ever know? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(LaugJiiug.) 
Don't shoot! I'll surrender. And what do you think of my 
choice? 

Miss Carringford. 
(Siuiliiigly.) 
When a man asks for an opinion of his fiancee, he is like an 
author who asks for criticism of a pet creation. He expects 
laudation. Wise lover, fortunate husband ! I sometimes think 
that no marriage can be a failure. Love is like life. Love 
is love while love lasts, no longer. It may mean as much to 
those v/ho drink but one draught as to those who drain the 
cup. It may be sweeter to regret its brief existence than to 
taste the bitterness at the bottom of the cup. If the cup be 
dashed from the lips one cannot have dregs to regret. (Rising, 
striving to remain calm.) Doctor, I hope you will have all the 
happiness you deserve, and that's a great deal. Miss Duples- 
sis is a very fortunate woman. And now, (Extending hand.) 
I must say good-by. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 



113 



Dr. Allyn. 
(Warmly, clasping Iter hand.) 
Good-by, Helen. Let me hear from yon, won't you? 

[They are moving tozvard reception 
hall] 

Miss Carringford. 

(Pausing and looking back tozcard picture, smiling.) 

Fiancees and lady correspondents are incompatible, Doctor. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
Oh, nonsense, Helen ! Yon must write. 

Miss Carringford. 
Perhaps ; we'll see. Good-by. 



Dr. Allyn. 
Good-by, Helen. 

[Bxit Miss Carringford, pausing for 
a moment and looking back with emotion 
at the doctor, zvho has turned back. 

Dr. Allyn stands for a moment in 
deep thought zvhere Miss Carringford 
left him. Shakes his head sadly. Walks 
slozvly to desk and seats himself in desk 
chair. Ponders for a moment.'] 

Dr. Allyn, 
Ross was right. How blind I was ! (Sympathetically.) Poor 
Helen! (Picks up Kathryn's picture, looks at it lovingly, 



114 THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

with a sigh.) Poor Helen! (Replaces picture on desk, rises, 
looks at zvotch. Briskly.) I believe I'll finish that batch of 
experiments before I retire. 

[Takes off coat and puts on house 
jacket from coat and hat stand. Turns 
out lights by pressing pendant push but- 
ton above desk. Enters laboratory, clos- 
ing doors behind him. A moment later a 
faint clicking, metallic sound is heard at 
zvindow at right. This is repeated several 
times. Dr. Allyn appears at door of 
laboratory, listens for a moment, then 
enters library and softly closes labora- 
tory doors behind him. Clicking sound 
continues.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

Ah ! One of my old friends, evidently, is about to make me 

a belated call. 

[Softly goes' to desk and opens left 
hand top drazver. Faint spotlight reveals 
movements. Takes out large revolver — 
silver plated — lays it on desk and covers 
it z\.'ith nezvspaper. Seats himself in desk 
chair at left of desk, facing dozvn center. 
Clicking sound is succeeded by sound of 
zvindozv being slozdy raised. A man is 
seen cautiously getting in by zvindozv. 
Has bulls-eye lamp in hand. Pauses zvith 
one leg over windozv sill and then throzvs 
light from electric bulls-eye in several 
directions, missing desk and doctor every 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 115 

time. Climbs in and steps into apart- 
nient as far as right center. Limelight 
shozi's movements. Doctor reaches up 
and pushes pendant push-button, flooding 
room zvith light. Doctor does not look 
toward burglar, but dozvn stage. Burg- 
lar, startled, drops bulls-eye and pulls 
gun, leveling it at the doctor.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Calmly biting off end of cigar unthout looking 

tozvard intruder.) 
Good evening. (Deliberately lights cigar.) Rather an informal 
call, isn't it? 

Burglar. 
Well ; I'll be damned ! 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Turning tozvard burglar and coolly surveying him.) 
Oh, I hope not. (Curiously.) What on earth are you going 
to do with that gun? 

Burglar. 
(Grimly.) 
Well, that's up to you, ]\Iister. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(With studied politeness.) 
Is it, really? Then put it up. It's not conducive to sociabili- 
ty. Besides, it might go off and spill some of your brains on 
my nice new rug. I shouldn't like that — the novelty of it has 
hardly worn off yet. 



ii6 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Burglar. 
(Admiringly.) 
Well ; you are a cool one. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Coolly.) 

Fortunately for you. 

Burglar. 

(Sneeringly.) 
For me ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Emphatically.) 

Yes, for you ! But put up your gun — you don't need it. 

Burglar. 
Say, Mister, are you giving me straight talk? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Straight talk! Don't be a fool. My friend, if I had wanted 
to be nasty it would have been all up with you sometime ago. 
I could have had the police waiting for you, or I could have — 
mussed up my rug, as you came through the window. I 
heard you long before you got in. Come, now, put up your 
gun. 

Burglar. 
(Hesitatingly, sloivly loivcring pistol.) 
By God! Mister, I've a notion to go you once — if I lose. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 117 

Dr. Allyn. 
Do. It will make things seem so much more home-like. 

Burglar. 
(Still hesitating.) 
And why didn't you pot me? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Well, as I told you, I didn't want to muss things up. Besides, 
I'm rather friendly to your kind of fellows. Really, you ought 
to have come around according to schedule — I have a very 
pretty plate with my office hours on my front door. 

Burglar. 
(Closely eyeing doctor.) 
Well, here goes, for luck. 

[Steps up and tosses gun on desk.\ 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Admiringly.) 
You're a dead game sport ! Just to meet you half way, I'll 
put the chairman of the reception committee away. 

[Raises newspaper and reveals gun. 
Puts revolver in drawer, closes and locks 
it.] 

Burglar. 
(Chuckling.) 

Say, Mister, you had me, all right. 



ii8 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
And how did you know I wouldn't break faith with you? 

Burglar. 
(Slowly, looking the doctor steadily in the eye.) 
Oh, hell ! Men who are game enough to take such a chance 
as you did a while ago don't lie, and they don't soak a fellow 
who puts them on honor. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Looking zvonderingly at burglar.) 
Why, you seem to know something besides the intricacies of 
window locks. You're something of a philosopher. 

Burglar. 
(Bitterly.) 
Yes ; I am a philosopher — of the gall-and-wormwood variety — 
and I know something of human nature. It's pretty safe to 
gamble on form when dealing with men. 

Dr. Allyn. 

But you're not wise in some directions. What on earth in- 
spired you to break into my house? 

Burglar. 
(Glancing significantly at safe.) 

Why, it looked promising — and tl d easy, 

[Dr. Allyn notes direction of burg- 
lar's gase and laughs prodigiously.] 



THB BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 119 

Burglar. 
What's the joke, Mister? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Let me show you something. 

[Leads zi'ay to safe and opens it, dis' 
playing numerous bottles and boxes.'\ 

Burglar. 

Well — what in hell? What sort of a crib is this, and what's 
that treasure-box stuffed with? 

Dr. Allyn. 
This is a doctor's office, and those are specimens. 

Burglar. 

I am little Bright-Eyes — that's a fact. What do you think of 
that? Say, Doc — . 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Suavely, closing safe, returning to seat and fac- 
ing burglar.) 

Doctor — if you don't mind. Doc bears the same relation to 

doctor that gent does to gentleman. 

Burglar. 

(Advancing slozvly toivard doctor.) 
Beg pardon — Doctor — I'm ashamed of this job. 



ISO THB BLOOD OF THE FATHBKS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Indicating chair, right of desk.) 
Like robbing widows and orphans, isn't it? Have a chair. 
[Burglar takes chair.] 

Burglar. 
Reckon it's your play, Doctor. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Suppose we take a httle creature comfort for a starter. 

[Going to cabinet, doctor brings out 
bottle and cigars and sets tJiem before 
burglar.] 

Burglar. 

Thank you, Doc — Doctor — but I never touch either tobacco 
or Hquor. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
Ah, indeed ! It does interfere with a professional gentleman's 
steadiness, doesn't it? As I'm not an operating surgeon I 
sometimes chance it. However, if you will not join me, I'D 
dispense with the drink. 

Burglar. 
(Looking seriously at doctor.) 
Say, Doctor, you are — 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 121 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Expectantly.) 
Yes, 

Burglar. 
Well, an odd sort of chap. 

Dr. Allyn, 
Am I, really? Possibly the imconventionality of your visit 
has affected me. And now I'm going to punish you for dis- 
turbing me at this unholy hour of the night. 

[Burglar glances at gun, rises and 
takes a step tozvard it] 
Burglar. 
(Belligerently.) 
Punish me! 

Dr. Allyn. 

Yes — I'm going to ask you to tell me all about yourself. 

[Burglar gases doubtfully at doctor 
for a moment.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing.) 
You profess to be a character student — you ought to know 
whether it's safe or not. 

Burglar. 
All right, let 'er go ! 

[Resumes seat. Doctor also seats 
himself.] 



122 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 

The learned professions are divided into specialties. Would 
you mind telling me yours? I doubt if it's house-breaking. 

Burglar. 

(Laconically.) 
Banks. 

Dr. Allyn. 
A yeggman ! — and house-breaking ! What a come-down ! 

Burglar. 
(With, vehemence.) 
Come-down? Yes, but what the devil is a fellow to do — 
starve ? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Starve? Is business quiet in your line, or have you lost your 



grip 



in? 



Burglar. 



They're hot on my trail and I've got to lay low. Meanwhile 
I've got to do the best I can. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(With interest.) 
Hot on your trail? May I ask your name? 

Burglar. 

(Looking at the doctor keenly for a few seconds.) 
Am I taking a chance? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 123 

Dr. Allyn. 

Not the least in the world. Possibly I'd better introduce my- 
self. I'm Dr. Gilbert Allyn. 

Burglar, 
(Springing to his feet in amazement.) 
The devil you say! Dr. Gilbert Allyn! And — I — broke — 
into — ^your — house ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Dryly.) 

So it seems — and the name? 

Burglar. 
They call me Gentleman George. 

Dr. Allyn. 
So you are Gentleman George? 

Burglar. 

(Sarcastically.) 
Yes; here's my card. 

[Takes hand-hill from pocket, gives 
it to doctor and resumes seat.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Looking at hand bill.) 
Ah ! Your picture also ! (Reads aloud.) One Thousand 
Dollars reward for the capture of George Maxwell, alias 
Gentleman George, dead or alive. 



124 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gravely, shaking his head and throwing hand- 
hill on desk.) 
That little job up at Poughkeepsie was bad business, Maxwell. 

Maxwell. 
(Springing up excitedly and gesticulating.) 
Hell, man ! Don't I know that ? (Picks up hand-bill and 
throivs it dozvn again.) Every word of that cursed thing is 
burned into my very soul! What was I to do? Cornered 
like a rat — I fought like a rat ! If I hadn't got some of them, 
they'd have gotten me ! — and I'm not ready — yet. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Thoughtfidly.) 
The watchman died, did he not? 

Maxwell. 
(Regretfully.) 

Yes; and I'm d d sorry. The poor devil was merely try 

ing to do his duty — for forty dollars a month. How he ever 
kept out of the money-vaults I don't know. (Angrily.) If 
I'd got one of that mob of citizens that hunted me, I wouldn't 
care two whoops in hell. (Pacing about excitedly.) A thou- 
sand dollars reward ! I did time — six months — when I was 
a poor little slum kid — for a crime I didn't commit. I came 
out branded an outcast. Did anybody offer two bits to save 
me? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Quietly.) 
Or the watchman? 



THE, BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 125 

AIaxwEll. 
(Picking up hand-hill.) 

I once read somewhere that a criminal was a supreme egotist. 
(Satirically.) Good God ! Why shouldn't he be ? A thousand 
dollars reward! Come high, don't we? (Throzvs hand bill 
back on desk.) And that's society's way of protecting itself! 

No wonder we prey on decent people. They're such d d 

fools ! 

Dr. Allyn. 

No chance for an argument, George. (Smiling.) If society 
ever becomes really intelligent, all the professions — the law, 
the clergy, medicine and — your own — will be put out of busi- 
ness. But go ahead with your story. 

Maxwell. 
(Grimly, resuming seat.) 
I've put in most of my time since my first commitment paying 
my debt to society. I went over to The Island a poor little 
boot-black. I came out an expert dip — a — 

Dr. Allyn. 
Yes, I know; a pickpocket. 

Maxwell. 

I found competent teachers at the Island — it was a great 
school. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Do you know anything of your parents, George? 



126 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Maxwell. 
(Bitterly.) 
Too much. My father was an honest bookkeeper — when he 
was sober — and could get a job — a loafer when he was drunk. 
He never stole anything — more's the pity — we might have been 
more comfortable if he had. He married my mother off the 
variety stage. She never was very domestic in her tastes — 
never had much use for her kid — she ran away with a nigger 
minstrel when I was a year old. Dad dragged me around from 
pillar to post until he got knifed in a brawl. I was a gutter- 
snipe after that, and made a living by selling papers and black- 
ing boots until — 

Dr. Allyn. 
Until the city sent you to its training ; -::ool at the Island, eh? 

Maxwell. 

Yes; and if a kid with the measles were sent to the smallpox 
hospital there'd be an awful row. And some people brag about 
our civilization ! Bunk ! The men who do your preaching and 
the men who make your laws would make a chimpanzee blush 
for the imbecility of his two-handed relations — and the so- 
called morals of some of them would make a tenderloin par- 
rot seasick. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
S-sh ! Somebody might hear you. The truth shocks really 
good people. Your ideas would not be popular with the 
masses. They've got to be educated — educated to believe that 
it's cheaper to prevent than to cure. Society never adopts a 
reform that isn't stamped with the dollar mark. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 127 

Maxwell, 
{Continuing.) 
There's not much more to tell. I dipped once too often and 
was caught with the leather — the — ■ 

Dr. Allyn. 
Pocketbook. 

Burglar. 

Yes. The mug that spotted me got gay — tried to blackjack 
me. I hurt him some — and got a five-year stretch in Sing 
Sing. The prison chaplain took a fancy to me — ^gave me an 
easy job in the library. He told me what books to read — did 
all he could to improve me — but he got in the game too late 
(Sighing.) Thinks he reformed me, poor old chap. 

Dr. Allyn. 
But you seem to have profited by his teaching — in some ways. 

Maxwell. 
(Sarcastically.) 
Oh, yes — the Pen was a great place to learn things. Pete 
Broderick, the best yegg ever, taught me all he knew of his 
little game — and Pve added something to it since. I don't 
know the burgle racket very well, and don't like it — ^but 
(Pointing to the hand-bill.) I didn't dare to try to pull ofif 
my regular stunt, and I was hard up. You know the rest. 

Dr. Allyn. 

And you didn't dare mingle with the crooks for obvious rea- 
sons? 



128 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Maxwell. 
No; a thousand dollars might look big to them — and some- 
body might want to get solid with the front office at police 
headquarters. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
If the crooks never betrayed each other, we'd be in a bad way 

MaxwLll. 
Humph ! That's the only way your boss mugs ever save their 
faces. If crooks never peached on their pals the coppers would 
have to get out of business. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Ever try the honest employment game? 

Maxwell. 
Sure. I tried that, too. I married a girl out of a decent, 
hard-working family, got a job and settled down quietly in a 
little flat up in Harlem. The cops hounded me and I lost my 
job. I got another and they soaked me again. Victor Hugo's 
man had nothing on me. Then I quit trying — and went back 
to my old trade. 

Dr. Allyn, 
And what became of your wife? 

Maxwell. 
I was coming to that. She turned out to be a dope fiend. T 
did all I could to save her — spent thousands of dollars — but 
it was no use. She finally died — a suicide. 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 129 

Dr. Allyn. 
Did she ever discover your regular occupation? 

Maxwell. 

(Satirically.) 
No. I told her I worked in a bank — nights — (Grinning.)— 
which wasn't much of a lie, at that. 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Thoughtfully.) 
How fortunate that you never had any children. 

Maxwe;ll. 

But we did have children — twins — a boy and a girl. The boy 
died — for which I'm glad. The girl lived — for that I'm both 
glad and sorry. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(With great interest.) 
So, you have a daughter. Where is she now, George? 

Maxwell. 

Don't know — I might find out — but I'm not going to try, so 
long as I think she's safe. The less she knows about me the 

better. She has a few letters from me, and I was d d 

fool enough to send her my picture, some years ago. I have 
her picture and her letters. It's best to let it go at that. She 
hasn't seen me since she was too young to remember — and she 
thinks I was killed in — well, anyhow, she thinks I'm dead and 
that when I died one of my friends became her guardian. Of 



130 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

course, / was the guardian. I had her in a boarding-school 
in the East, A wealthy couple from somewhere or other 
adopted her, and she probably has forgotten that I ever ex- 
isted. (Sighing.) Poor little Kiddy ! I never can forget her. 

Dr. Allyn. 
And what are you going to do novv? Xew York may be a 
little hot for you. 

Maxwell. 
I'm going to get out of New York — and stay out. 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Reflectively, rising.) 
Maxwell, you're right — I aut a queer chap. I don't believe 
society would be any better ofif if you paid the price of so- 
ciety's own sins and went to the electric chair, and — well, I'm 
not a policeman, anyway, but a friend of the under-dog. Pos- 
sibly I can figure out some plan to make a decent — father — 
of you. But I must get to bed. I'm tired. Here, take this. 
[Hands Jiiin money.] 

Maxwell. 
(U'itJi emotion, rising.) 
Thank you. Doctor. 

Dr. Allyn. 
It will keep you from making late calls for a few days. See 
me again tomorrow night. 

Maxwell, 
Here? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 131 

Dr. Allyn, 
Yes, here. Better come in by the window, as you did tonight. 
I'll be on the lookout for you, about midnight — and you'll not 
need your jimmy. And now I'll say good-night. 

[Maxwell steps toward desk and 
picks up gun.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

Better leave that with me, George. You're in deep enough 
now. Besides, you may not need it again. 

[Maxwell hesitates. Doctor extends 
hand for gun. 

Maxwell impulsively hands doctor 
the gun. Doctor lays it on desk.] 

Maxwell. 
You're right. Good night. Doc! 

[Dr. Allyn looks smilingly at Max- 
well. Maxwell looks pussled] 

AIaxwEll. 
(Humbly, zvith sudden recollection.) 
I beg your pardon — Doctor. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Extending hand.) 

Good night, George. 

[They shake hands. 
Maxwell steps tozvard zmndozu and 
turns inquiringly to doctor.] 



122 THE BLOOD OP THB FATHERS 

MaxwivLL. 



This way, sir? 
Yes, it's safer. 



Dr. Allyn, 



[Tlic doctor turns off light. Maxwell 
makes exit tliroitgli zviudozv. Doctor 
follows him to zvindow, closes it after 
him and locks it. Returns to desk and 
turns on light. Stands pensii'cly look- 
■ing dozen right center.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Poor devil ! — and poor child ! Maxwell is paying the price — • 
sJie will have to pay it — sooner or later. The Nemesis of 
tainted blood must have its toll, and she — 

[Voice is heard in the street ivithout, 
crying, "Halt!" Dr. Allyn starts and 
looks toward zvindozv, at right. Sound 
of running feet and tzvo sJwts in rapid 
successio)i, follozved by policeman's 
zvJiistle.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
By heaven ! I believe they've got him ! 

[Rushes to zvindozv, raises it and looks 
out. Listens intently. Closes zvindozv 
and returns to desk.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(With emotion, en route to desk.) 
If that was Maxwell they were firing at, I hope to God he got 
away ! 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS J33 

[Sound of footsteps in direction of 
reception hall. Doctor turns toward 
door and listens. Peremptory ring at 
hell. Doctor hastens to open door. 
Enter Sergeant Ruilly and Officer Raf- 
FERTY, supporting between them Max- 
well, ze^/zo is very pale and in great dis- 
tress, pressing his hand over his right 
side.'\ 

Sergeant Reilly. 

Sorry to trouble yez, Docthor Allyn, but this guy's got his, 
an' we don't want him to croak before the wagon comes. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Hurriedly leading the zvay.) 
Here, on the couch, — gently, boys, gently ! 

[Thev lay Maxwell on the couch. 
Sergeant Reilly stoops and looks critic- 
ally at Maxwell's face. Slaps Raf- 
FERTY on the back.] 

Sergeant Reilly. 
Gintleman George, or I'm a Dutchman! Good boy, Rafferty! 
[Officers laugh and shake hands.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Cut that out, boys ! That will keep. Stand back, please ! He 
belongs to me just now. (Aside to AIaxwEll.J Sorry, 
George, old boy. 

[Officers stand back.] 



134 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Maxwell. 

( Faintly.) 

It — had — to — come — Doctor. 

[Doctor opens Maxwell's coat and 
vest, raises shirt, glances at zvound and 
feels pulse. Looks very grave.] 

Maxwell. 
(Faintly, gasping for breath.) 
Is — there — any — chance — for — me — Doctor ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sadly.) 

I'm afraid not, George. 

Maxwell. 

It's — all — right — but for God's sake — keep me — alive — 
for — a — few — minutes. I — have — some — thing — to 
— say — to you — alone. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Coniinandingly, to officers.) 
Leave me alone with him, please ! 

[Officers step slozvly aside to recep- 
tion hall, Reilly leading the zvay and 
Rafferty looking back doubtfidly. They 
both stop and look back fust at door of 
hall. Doctor takes out hypodermic and 
gives Maxwell an infection in his arm.] 



THH BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 135 

Officer Rafferty. 
I dunno about this, Sergeant. A thousand dollars ain't picked 
up every day. Don't you think we'd betther stay where we 
are? 

Sergeant Reilly. 
Not on yer loife. When Doc Allyn says a guy is safe — ye 
kin bet yer boots he is safe. Come on, Rafferty ! 

[Exit officers, to ante-room.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Quietly, leaning over Maxwell. j 
It was Rafferty that got you. He's a good fellow and has a 
houseful of babies. , 

Maxwell. 
(Satirically, raising himself to half sitting position.) 
My congratulations — to — Mrs. — Rafferty — and the — 
kids. There's a packet — of — letters in — my side — pocket. 
(Doctor reaches into pocket and gets packet.) They are my 
kiddy's letters — her — picture — is — there, too. There — 
is — key to — deposit — vault. Money for kid — clean 
money — won — on — races. Try — to — to — find — find 
— her. Tell her — tell — (Falls back.) 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Anxiously.) 
Yes, George. Tell her what? 

{Receiving no anszi'er, the doctor leans 
over, looks at Maxwell's face, puts car 
to his chest, rises and sorrozvfully shakes 
his head.] 



136 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn, 

Poor fellow ! There are no social problems, and moral values 
are pretty well sifted, over yonder. 

[Puts packet of letters in safe. Goes 
to door of reception hall and calls 
officers. Officers enter.'] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sadly, motioning tozvard body.) 
He's yours now, boys. 

[Doctor goes to desk, picks up hand- 
bill, looks at it pensively, crumples it in 
his hand and throzvs it dozvn on desk. 
Picks up Maxwell'^ gun and looks 
tozvard officers.] 

Dr. Allyn, 
(To himself.) 
You owe me something. Rafferty. 

[Doctor puts gun in drazver. Takes 
cigar, lights it and goes slozvly tozvard 
laboratory. Stops at door, turns and 
surveys scene. Clang of patrol zvagon 
gong and clatter of horses' feet heard in 
rear. Officers approach body.] 

Sergeant Ri^illy. 
(Stooping and looking closely at Maxwell's face.) 
I told ye he was safe, Rafferty. 

[Officers shake hands. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 137 

Dr. Allyn is still standing at entrance 
of laboratory. Officers look expectantly 
toward him.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Deliberately.) 

You saved me from an awful twist of the conscience tonight^ 
Rafferty. You're a capital shot — (Satirically.) for a police- 
man. 

[Exit Dr. Allyn. Officers look icon- 

deringly after the doctor, then at each 

other.] 

Officer RaffErty. 
(Looking puzzled and shaking his head.) 
He's a queer chap, that docthor. I wonder phwat th' divil he 
was drivin' at, innyhow. 

CURTAIN. 



THE THIRD ACT 



THE THIRD ACT 



Time — Morning, a few days later. 
SCENE : 

Dr. AUyn's library and consultation room. 

[Enter Mrs. Duplessis and Miss Dup- 
LEssis, ushered by Matsada.] 

Mrs. Duple;ssis. 
Just as I feared, Kathryn, the doctor has not returned from 
his morning calls. 

Miss DuPLESsis. 
He will return soon, will he not, Matsada? 

Matsada. 
Sometime pretty quick he come back. Plenty time he not 
never come back. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Haughtily.) 
Let us hope that this is not one of the times when he never 
comes back. We will wait for him, my good man. 

Matsada. 

(Showing the ladies to chairs and boning pro- 
foundly.) 

Will ladies please honorably to be seated? 

141 



142 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

[The ladies nod coldly to Matsada 
and seat themselves. 

Matsada goes to door at left. Pauses 
and looks back at ladies.] 

Matsada. 
(Regretfully shaking his head.) 
Lady with honorable bUie whiskers is not yet to be here. 
[Exit Matsada.] 

Miss DuPLESsis. 
(Peez'ishly.) 
I do hope that Gilbert will not be long. I detest waiting for 
people. 

Mrs. DuplESSis. 

(Tapping Miss Duplessis playfully on the face 

zvith her lorgnette.) 
Ah ! my dear, you are beginning early. You have before you 
many weary waits for Gilbert. Remember that you are going 
to marry a doctor. A doctor's life is not all beer and skittles. 
The life of a doctor's wife is not a social or domestic para- 
dise. I'm a doctor's daughter and I know. I sometimes won- 
der if you quite comprehend the problem that confronts you. 

Miss Duplessis. 
Problem, mamma? 

Mrs. Duplessis. 

Yes, dear, problem. Loneliness, disturbed rest and almost no 
social pleasures — such is the lot of the doctor's wife. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 143 

Miss DuplEssis. 

But, Mamma, it will be different with me. Gilbert is a famous 
specialist and doesn't have to run at the beck and call of every 
one. I'll not have to put up with the things that harass most 
doctors' wives. 

Mrs. DuPLEssis. 

True, my dear; Gilbert is a famous specialist, but he became 
famous by hard work, and work does not cease with success. 
Men often have to struggle harder to maintain a position than 
they did to gain it. Then, too, he has a hobby — and hobbyists 
do not always make the best husbands. 

[Mrs. DuPLESsis rises and approaches 
cabinet of skulls.] 
(Continuing.) 
You'll have several rivals for your husband's attention. (Snr- 
z'cys skulls through lorgnette.) Aha! Here's the hobby: 
Rival number one! 



Miss DuplESSis. 
(With on expression of disgust.) 
Ugh ! That hideous graveyard will have to go when I take 
charge of things. 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 

(Turning and looking at her daughter through 

lorgnette.) 
Ah, will it, really? Possibly the doctor may insist on bossing 
this part of the establishment himself. 



144 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Miss DuPLESSis. 
(Poiitingly.) 
Then I'll never come into his old library. 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
(Smiling.) 
I wonkl suggest that you begin that way. It will save you 
some heartaches. To say nothing of the skulls, there'll be 
women patients; and I know your temperament, Kathryn. 

Miss DuPLEssis. 
(With dignity.) 
You don't suppose for one moment that I'll be jealous of a lot 
of miserable patients, do you ? 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
The instance has been known. (Sighing reminisccntly.) My 
poor mother was not a philosopher, and you surely are not. 
Some patients do not look as miserable as they claim to be, 
All are human, and as doctors are human, and doctors' wives 
sometimes have fertile imaginations — heartaches often grow 
out of nothing. Imaginary wrongs pluck the heartstrings 
quite as agonizingly as real ones. And there are other rivals. 
Here's one to be reckoned with. 

[Goes to laboratory door and looks in.] 

Miss DuPLEssis. 
(Rising and looking over her mothers shoulder 
into laboratory.) 
A lot of ugly bottles and a microscope ! What nonsense ! 

[Goes doivn riglit center and stands by 
desk.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 145 

Mrs. DuPLEssis. 
Don't be so sure, my dear. My father used to say that science 
was a jealous mistress. Indeed, he often said that a scientist 
should never marry. The microscope is not a purveyor of do- 
mestic bliss. You may find that your little world is not big 
enough for a microscope and a wife, (Points to library.) 
And those books over yonder — A book-worm and a social but- 
terfly — for that's what you are, my dear — are likely to be mis- 
mates. I've seen such things. 

Miss DuPLESsis. 
(Resentfully.) 
If you disapproved of Gilbert, Mamma, why didn't you say 
so in the beginning? 

Mrs. DuPLESsis. 
I don't disapprove of him, my dear, any more than I disap- 
prove of you. Dr. Allyn is a fine man — and I'm very proud of 
you, my daughter. I merely question whether your tempera- 
ments and tastes are suited to each other. The social side of 
life appeals very strongly to you, while Gilbert is serious 
minded and devoted to a mission in life. Unless both are will- 
ing to make great sacrifices, you may get into troubled waters. 
He may be set in his ways and you — 

Miss DuPLESSis. 
(Tartly.) 

Lack common sense, I suppose? You might as well say it. 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
(In mild reproof.) 
But I did not say it, my dear; nor did I think it. What I 



146 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

was about to say was, that you're not practical minded while 
Gilbert, if not practical, is at least not romantic enough to love 
any woman better than his work. I said nothing at the be- 
ginning because I knew it would be useless. I knew you — 
and could read him. Besides, I was so grateful to him for 
saving your life that — well, I was not in a judicial frame of 
mind. 

Miss DuPLESSis. 
(Tartly.) 
Well, Mamma, you've made up for it since. If persistent 
nagging helps any, your conscience should be clear. But you 
needn't worry. FU know how to cross my bridges when I get 
to them. A woman who mopes over neglect, whether unavoid- 
able or not. is a fool. I'm not going to allow matrimony to 
make a stick of me. Alice-Sit-by-the-Fire never made a hit 
with me. I'll work out my own salvation — and in my own 
way. Besides, Gilbert is only a man, and men can be molded. 

Mrs. DuplKssis. 
(Holding up her hands in Iwrror.) 
How frightfully worldly ! One would think — 

Miss DuPLESSis. 

That I was experienced, ch? Well, as to that, a young wom- 
an's intuition is sometimes better than an old one's experience. 
But what's the use of discussing the matter? Gilbert is crazy 
about me, and I love him. He is prosperous and a celebrity 
and can give me opportunities. I'll do my best to take ad- 
vantage of them. If I get the worst of it, it will be my own 
fault. But I'm not going to allow myself to get the worst of 



THE BLOOD OF THE, FATHERS 147 

it. If Gilbert persists in living his own life — why, I'll live 
mine. 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
(Holding up her hands in astonishment.) 
Why, my child ! What on earth are you talking about ? 

Miss DuPLKssis. 
(Laughing.) 
Nothing, Mamma, dear. Just trying to meet you half way and 
be serious for once. 

[Picks up a magazine from the desk 
and idly turns the leaves. ] 

Mrs. DuPLESsis. 
(Gravely.) 
Well, dear, you've succeeded pretty well for a beginner. Pray 
don't give me any more shocks. 

Miss DuPLESsis. 
(Tossing her head and laughing carelessly.) 
Mamma, you are so funny. 

Mrs. DuplESSts. 
(Seriously.) 
Thank you, dear; I wish the subject were also funny. 

[Mrs. DupLESsis goes to hook case 
and proceeds to inspect its contents 
through her lorgnette.] 



148 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Mrs. DuPLESsis. 
(Turning suddenly and facing Miss DuplESSISJ 
Kathryn, dear — 

Miss DuPLESsis. 
(Absently, and zvithout looking up from magazine.) 
Yes, Mamma. 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
I've decided that it's best to tell Gilbert the truth about our 
relationship. 

Miss DuPLESSis. 
(All attention. Protestingly, rising.) 
What's the use of doing that? It's not a matter that should 
concern him. It's our own affair, anyway. 

Mrs. DuPLEssis. 
I'm not so sure of that. Ours is an old, old family, and if he 
sets store by such things he would better learn now, rather 
than later, that you are not my own daughter. So I think it 
would be best to tell him at once. I've resolved to do so this 
very morning. 

Miss DuPLESSiS. 
(Shrugging her shoulders and resuming her seat 
and magazine.) 
Very well ; but all the same, I really can't see the necessity 
of it. 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
(Dryly.) 
Probably not. Intuition sometimes fails one. That's where 
experience counts. 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 149 

[Resumes critical examiiiatioii of titles 
of books. 

Miss DuPLEssis tosses her head con- 
temptuously, readjusts herself in the 
chair and energetically turns the pages of 
her magazine. 

Enter Ross Hart well, by reception 
hall door, silently ushered by Matsada, 
who has Hartwell's coat and hat. 

Matsada disappears. 

HartwEll stands for a second, un- 
noticed by the ladies, smiling suggestively 
at Miss DuPLEssis. 

Miss DuplEssis chances to look up and 
sees HartwEll. She rises to her feet in 
astonishment. HartwEll puts his finger 
to his lips, enjoining silence.] 

HartwEll. 

I beg your pardon, ladies. I was looking for the doctor, and 
was asked to wait for him here. I trust I'm not intruding. 

Mrs. DuplESSis. 
Not in the least. We, too, are waiting for the doctor. 



Thank you. 



Hartwell. 

[Mrs. DuplESSIS resumes inspection 
of books. 



ISO THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Hartwell picks up magasinc from 
the desk, looking significantly at Miss 
DuPLESSis, goes to ivindozi\ at right, 
seats himself and begins reading. Glances 
amusedly from time to time at Miss 
DuplEssis, ivho is evidently much flur- 
ried and pretends to read. Hurriedly 
takes small memorandum hook from his 
pocket, zvrites a brief note, tears out leaf, 
folds it into small compass, goes to desk, 
exchanges his magazine for another, 
hands note to Miss DuplEssis and re- 
sumes seat and reading. Miss DuplESSis 
glances at note.] 

Miss DuplESSis. 
(Aside, reading note.) 
Never saw you before, of course, but would like to see you 
again, for old times' sake. 

[Hartwell looks up inquiringly and 
Miss DuplESSis smiles and nods as- 
sent.] 

Mrs. DuPLESsis. 
(Stooping and looking closely at books.) 
The Laws of Heredity — Lombroso's Criminal Man — Social 
Parasites — Spencer's Social Statics — Diseases of the Brain-r- 
How very interesting, and how romantic ! Humph ! I do hope 
there's another selection of light reading matter on the prem- 
ises. (Turning to Miss DuplEssis.^ What was that book vou 
were reading last evening, Kathryn dear? 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 151 

Miss DUPLESSIS. 
(Defiantly.) 
Mile, de Maupin. 

Mrs. DuPLESsis. 
Treasure it carefully, my clear. You may need it in the near 
future. I fancy I see — 

[Dr. Allyn enters briskly from recep- 
tion hall.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Why, Kathryn, dear! And Mrs. Duplessis ! This is indeed 
an honor. (Laughing.) Welcome to my workshop! Have 
you been waiting long? 

Miss Duplessis. 
(Rising, petulantly.) 
Hours and hours ! — and my first visit, too. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Apologetically, sJiaking hands zvith both ladies.) 
Ah, if I had only known you were coming. — Just think what 
I have missed ! 

Miss Duplessis. 
(Poutingly.) 
Just think how long we've been waiting in your — (Glancing 
at skulls.) Golgotha. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Noting direction of her glance, and laughing.) 
Matsada never will draw the curtains of that cabinet. If I 



152 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

forget to draw them he leaves them open. He's mortally 
afraid of those skulls. 



Miss DuplEssis. 
(Shrugging shoulders.) 
I don't blame him — but possibly they disgust rather than 
frighten him. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Going to cabinet and draimng curtains.) 
There, dear; we'll hide them. But really, while they are not 
cheerful companions they are quiet and restful — and very 
useful in their way. 

[Curtain cord snaps and curtains fall 
apart.] 
(Continuing.) 

There, I've done it now! Well, we'll just pretend that the 
skulls are concealed (Laughing and returni)ig to ladies, who 
ore greatly amused.) You see, ladies, how badly I need a 
wife. 

Miss DuPLEssis. 
(Satirically.) 

Yes, I noticed that long before the curtains fell. 

Mrs. DuPLESsis. 
(Smiling.) 

I told Kathryn that our waiting for you this morning was just 
by way of initiation into the ways of doctors and the life of 
the doctor's wife. 



TUB BLOOD OF THB FATHERS 153 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing and raising his finger warningly.) 
I hope you'll not carry the initiation too far, Madam. 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
(Smiling.) 
I'm a doctor's daughter you know, and perhaps I am a bit 
dangerous. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Sure enough — I never thought of that. Kathryn, dear, you 
mustn't take your mother too seriously. She may be biased 
and — 

[Hartwell, who has risen, coughs 
slightly.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Noticing HartwKll.J 
Well, of all things ! — if here isn't Ross Hartwell ! 

[Goes to Hartwell zvith both hands 
extended. They shake hands.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing.) 
Where on earth did you come from? 

Hartwell. 

I'm trying to redeem myself for past neglect and dropped in 
for a moment to ask you — 



154 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Interrupting.) 

Oh, never mind the errand — let me introduce you to these 
ladies. 

[Takes Hartwell ^3' the arm and 
leads him to the ladies, zvho stand smil- 
ingly expectant.] 
(Continuing.) 

Mrs. Duplessis and Miss Duplessis, permit me to present Mr. 
Hartwell, my old college chum and intimate friend. 

Miss Duplessis. 
(Quite composed and extending hand.) 
I'm always glad to meet Gilbert's friends, Mr. Hartwell. 

Hartwell. 

(Taking Miss Duplessis' hand and bowing lozv 
over it.) 

I'm more than charmed to meet Gilbert's fiancee, Miss Duples- 
sis. (Turns to Mrs. Duplessis and proffers his hand.) and 
equally charmed to meet you, Mrs. Duplessis. 

Mrs. Duplessis. 
(Shaking hands.) 
The pleasure is mutual, Mr. Hartwell. 

Miss Duplessis. 
(Reproachfully.) 
But, Mr. Hartwell, how does it happen that we've not met you 
before ? 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 155 

Hartwell. 

I've just returned from abroad and (Bowing and smiling po- 
litely.) have missed many pleasant associations during my 
absence from New York. I regret to say also, that I must 
content myself this morning with mere perfunctory greetings. 
(Turning to Doctor Allyn.j I called upon the doctor with 
the intention of dragging the old hermit-crab out of his shell. 

Dr. Allyn. 
And what was the bait with which you meant to tempt me? 

Hartwell. 

I'm making up a week-end yachting party of gentlemen from 
the yacht club for next Friday and (Laughing.) we're afraid 
we'll get seasick ; so I've appointed myself a committee of one 
to secure a doctor for the cruise. We also need a chemist — 
to test our wines and foodstuffs. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Seriously.) 
I'm dreadfully sorry, old fellow, but I'm so tied up with one 
thing or another that I can't possibly get away. It's mighty 
good of you to ask me, though. 

Hartwell. 
(Insistently.) 
Oh, bother the work! Forget it, and have a good time for 
once in your young life. Let your books and chemicals and 
(Looking tozvard cabinet of skidls.) those bony frights go 
hang for once — (Laughing.) or twice, as to those knights of 
the boneyard. 



156 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Regretfully.) 

It's impossible, Ross. I have an article to finish, and on Sat- 
urday evening I'm billed to give a lecture at Newark. 

Hartwell. 
(Hopelessly, addressing the ladies.) 
That's the way it always has been with Gilbert, ladies. But 
I hoped he had reformed. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Earnestly, laying his hand on HartwEll's shoidder.) 
You never did understand, Ross, but I appreciate your kind- 
ness just the same. Sometime, perhaps — 

Hartwell. 
(With slight irritation.) 
Oh, confound your "sometimes !" When the sky falls we shall 
catch larks — meanwhile we dine off sparrows. (Sighing.) 
Well, if you won't, you won't — and there's an end on't. And 
now I will bid you good morning, ladies. 
[Bozvs to ladies.] 

Mrs. DuPLESSis. 
Good morning, Mr. Hartwell. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Smilingly.) 

Good morning, Mr. Hartwell. I hope we may soon meet again 
and become better acquainted. I'm sure we shall be very good 
friends. 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 157 

HartwE^ll, 
(Bozving profoundly.) 
I sincerely hope so, Miss Duplessis. 

[Hartwell starts for exit, door of 
reception hall. Dr. Allyn accompanies 
him, grasping him friendlywise by the 
arm.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
But why this tremendous haste? 

HartwELL. 

I'm still picking up the old threads, you know, and sorting 
them out, and that keeps me pretty busy. Besides, I'm open- 
ing an office, and all that sort of thing (Laughing.) and I 
might miss a client. 

Dr. Allyn. 

So you really are attending to business? I surely will be in 
court the day you plead your first case. That will be a day 
to be marked with a white stone. 

HartwELL. 

(Extending hand.) 

It's a bet. An revoir! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Slapping Hartwell on the back.) 
Au revoir, old man, and success to you. 

[The ladies remain standing during 



755 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

the parting of the doctor and Hartwell. 
As the doctor is saying an revoir to 
Hartwell they converse in asides.] 

Mrs. DuPLESSis. 

You see how it will be, my dear. If social pleasures have no 
attraction for the bachelor, how easy it will be for the benedict 
to abstain from them. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Irritably.) 
Yes, I see; but I'll take care of that. 

Mrs. DuplESSis. 
(Dryly.) 
Well, dear, if the author of Mile, de Maupin has written 
any other books, I'll give you the whole lot for a wedding pres- 
ent. And I'll cut out the dinner gowns from your trousseau— 
you'll not need them. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Returning to ladies.) 
There is one of the best fellows in the world, and one of the 
cleverest. You'll like him, Kathryn, dear — he's so genial and 
quick-witted. 

Miss Duplessis. 

I hope I shall like all your friends, Gilbert, Mr. Hartwell in- 
cluded. But, candidly, he doesn't impress me. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 159 

Dr. Allyn. 

Oh, he's not as much surface as you might suppose — nor as 
much as he pretends. I'm sure you'll like him when you come 
to know him. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Smiling.) 

Well, I'll try to like him, anyhow, for your sake, Gilbert, if 
not for his own. 

[The ladies scat themselves, Mrs. 
DuplEssis at right of desk and Miss 
DuPLEssis beloiv desk. 

Dr. Allyn seats himself in his desk 
chair.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
It was mighty good of you ladies to visit me this morning. 

Miss DuPLESSis. 
(Pouting.) 
Indeed, it zvas very good of us — and if I were not of a most 
forgiving disposition I shouldn't have come. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Forgiving disposition ! Granted, but (Laughing.) what have I 
done now? 

Miss DuPLEssis. 

Such a memory ! Now I am piqued. You were to take me to 
the opera last evening. Instead of an evening of music I re- 
mained at home. Instead of a personal call from my fiance I 



j6o the blood op the fathers 

received a dozen American Beauties and a telephone message 
saying that you were going out of town. 



Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling indulgently.) 
I don't blame you for being piqued. And it was presumptious 
for me to consider the matter closed 

Miss DuplESSis. 

By the telephone and the florist. 

[Mrs. Duplb;ssis rises and goes to 
windozv at right.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Rising and going to Miss DuplEssis and taking 

her face hetzvcen his hands.) 
I'll close the incident again, little girl. (Kisses her.) and wish 
myself many happy returns. 

Miss DuplESSIS. 
(Smiling.) 
Of the incident? 

Dr. Allyn. 
No; of the closure. 

[Kisses her again."] 

Mrs. DuplESSIS. 
And now, Doctor, if you and Kathryn have quite made up — 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS i6i 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Standing hy Miss DuplEssis and taking her hand.) 
We have — quite. Haven't we, Kathryn? 



(Lightly.) 
Oh, I suppose so. 



Miss DuPLESsis. 



[Doctor turns expectantly to Mrs. 

DUPLESSIS.] 



Mrs. DuplEssis. 
(Returning from z\.nndozi' and resuming her seat.) 
I wish to speak to you on a matter of importance relative to 
Kathryn. 

[Miss DuplEssis impatiently rises and 
goes to window at right. '\ 

Dr. Allyn, 
(With mild astonishment.) 
To Kathryn! Why, what— 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
(Smiling.) 

Oh, it's nothing serious — just a Httle matter in which I think 
we should have a clear understanding. On several occasions 
I've heard you remark in a congratulatory way upon Kathryn's 
ancestry. You are right regarding the Duplessis family — it 
is one of the most aristocratic and famous in the South. But 
I feel that it is my duty to tell you that Kathryn is not a 
Duplessis. 



i62 THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 

(With astonishment.) 

Not a Duplessis ! Why, do you mean that — that you were 
married before you — 

Mrs. Duplessis. 
Before I married the general? No. 

Dr. Allyn. 
I fear I do not quite comprehend — 

Mrs. DuPLKSSis. 
Kathryn is my adopted daughter. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Your — adopted — daughter ! 

Mrs. Duplessis. 
Yes. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Why, you astonish me ! I never should have suspected such 
a thing. You seemed so devoted to each other that — 

Mrs. Duplessis. 

No one ever has suspected it. The General and I loved her 
as dearly as though she were our very own. So jealous were 
we of our secret that my husband and I mutually pledged our- 
selves — and pledged Kathryn — never to reveal to any one our 
true relations. You are the first to learn it 



THU BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 163 

Dr. Allyn. 
But your friends, Mrs. Duplessis? How did you — ? 

Mrs. Duple;ssis. 

Oh, that was very simple. When our only daughter died the 
General and I broke up our old home in Louisiana and traveled 
about from place to place for some years. We were simply 
heart-broken and could not bear the slightest mention of the 
old home or of our old friends. In trying to forget we were 
almost forgotten. About five years ago we chanced to be 
visiting in Washington and were invited to the commence- 
ment exercises of a girls' boarding school in that city. Kathryn 
was one of the pupils. The General happened to notice her 
resemblance to our dear daughter whom we had lost, and 
called my attention to her. The resemblance was so startling 
that we were both quite overcome — 



Dr. Allyn. 



(Gravely.) 
Quite naturally. 



Mrs. Duplessis. 

We sought out the young girl and, on closer inspection, were 
still more impressed with the resemblance to our loved one 
who was gone. We investigated her circumstances and found 
that her parents were dead and that she was nominally under 
the cliarge of a guardian whom she had never seen. We re- 
solved to adopt her, if possible. Correspondence with her 
guardian developed that he would be glad to shift the burden 
of responsibility of the girl's care to other shoulders. The 
rest was easy. We adopted Kathryn and settled down quietly 
in Richmond, Virginia, where my dear husband died, two 



i64 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

years ago. After his death I again broke up my home and 
Kathryn and I have ever since been travehng about like a 
couple of female nomads. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Hesitatingly.) 

And Kathryn's antecedents — do you — ? 

[Miss DuPLESsis turns and looks 
squarely at Dv. Allyn.] 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 

She can tell you the rest of the story, and doubtless will — 
much better than I can. (To Miss DuplEssis.j Kathryn — 

Miss DuplKssis. 
(Approaching.) 
Yes, Mamma. (Turning to Dr. Allyn, irritably.) Are my 
antecedents, then, of so much importance? Are you betrothed 
to my antecedents or to me ? Does my personality demand the 
support of a family tree? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Taken aback.) 
Why, I — you see, dearest, I naturally was astonished by your 
mother's revelation. I'm not questioning your antecedents 
and — and your personality speaks for itself. (Slozvly and re- 
flectively.) It makes no difference, after all, whether or not 
the Duplessis blood runs in your vains. Your own is doubt- 
less quite as good. (With enthusiasm.) Why, you show in 
every feature and movement that you were bred right — and 
that is the vital point. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 165 

Mrs. DuplESSis. 
(With dignity.) 

The general and I professed to be somewhat discerning in such 
matters, and were satisfied to let Kathryn's personality speak 
for her. We never questioned her breeding. I spoke of it to 
you merely because I thought it only fair, and because — 

Miss DuplEssis. 

(Siniling disdaiiifidly and looking significantly 
toward the cabinet of skulls.) 
And because of a certain gentleman's hobby, eh, mamma? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Noting the direction of her glance.) 
I can't quite see the application of the hobby to the present 
situation. 

Miss DuPLESsis. 
(Sarcastically.) 
I'm glad of that. It makes me feel reasonably sure of my 
ground. 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Ferzrntly.) 
You may be absolutely sure of your ground, dear. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(With dignity.) 
I'm sure you are both right in your conclusions as to my 
breeding — ^but I might have some difficulty in proving up. 



i66 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. AlIvYN. 
(Astonished.) 
Difficulty ! 



Miss DuplEssis. 



Yes — difficulty. 



Dr. Allyn. 
I don't quite comprehend. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Coldly.) 
Naturally, for I have not told you my story. I never knew 
my mother — she died when I was a baby. For some reason 
best known to himself, my father kept me in an institution — 
until I was old enough to be placed in school. He gave me 
the best educational advantages that money could procure — 
but that w^as all. I never saw him after I was old enough to 
remember him. (Proudly.) He died, finally, in battle in the 
Philippines, leaving me in the nominal care of a guardian 
whom I never saw. I have a few letters from my father — and 
his picture, which, with a few hundred dollars that he left me 
are all that link me to my family. Mother has told you how 
I happened to enter the Duplessis family. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Hesitatingly.) 
Why, the matter is not really important, but — may I ask your 
father's name ? 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 167 

Miss DuPLESsis. 
(Smiling.) 

Well, you do seem interested in my family tree, after all. I'm 
not going to tell you his name — until I've shown you his 
picture. Then, if you don't say that he was handsome and 
that I resemble him, I'll say his name was John Smith or 
Peter Brown — or something equally unromantic. The next 
time you call I will — 

Mrs. DuPLESSis. 

It will not be necessary to wait until then, Kathryn, dear. 

( Opening hand bag.) I have the photograph here — and the 

letters. 

[Produces packet of letters and a small 

card photograph and hands them to 

Kathryn.] 

Miss DuplESSIS. 
(Smiling, and taking packet.) 
Oh, that wonderful handbag! and that wonderful mamma, 
who provides against all contingencies — possible and impos- 
sible ' 

[Gives photograph and letters to Dr. 

Allyn.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Protestingly, but taking letters and photograph.) 
How absurd it all is ! As if the details of your family history 
made any difference, one way or the other ! 

[Dr. Allyn looks at photograph and 
starts violently with surprise and con- 
sternation.] 



i68 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
This was — ^your — your father ! 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Astonished.) 
Why, Gilbert ! — did you know my father ? 

Mrs. DuplEssis. 
You knew Mr. Hetherington ! How very strange. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Confusedly.) 
N — no. At first sight I thought that — that the picture was — 
that of a very dear friend of mine who is dead. The — the 
resemblance startled me. You said, Mrs. Duplessis, that his 
name was — was — 

Miss Duplessis. 
Mrs. Duplessis. 
(1)1 concert.) 

Hetherington — Charles Hetherington. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Regaining coniposnre and looking calmly at tJie 

pictnre.) 
Hetherington — I do not recall ever having met any one of that 
name. The resemblance to my dead friend is not so strong 
as it seemed at first. 

{Lays letter and photograph on table.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 169 

Miss DuPLElssis. 
I wish you would read my father's letters, Gilbert, dear. 

Dr. Allyn. 

I will gladly do so, Kathryn (Puts arm around her.) since — 
well, since you wish me to do so, although really, little girl, 
credentials are unnecessary. But would you mind leaving 
them with me, so that I may look them over at my leisure? 
I don't propose to have your visit encroached upon by any 
further consideration of your family history. 
[Leads her to chair. 
Several patients are ushered hy Mat- 
SADA into reception hall and take seats. 
Matsada draws curtains and disap- 
pears.] 

Mrs. Duple;ssis. 

But, Doctor, we must be going. It is not right to rob you 
of any more of the time that should be devoted to your 
patients. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Oh, bother the patients ! 

Mrs. DuPLESsis. 
(Smiling.) 

But, Doctor, patients are necessary evils — they must be at- 
tended to. Besides, we have some shopping to do — and (Play- 
fully tapping Kathryn's check with her lorgnette.) this little 
girl may as well have another illustration of the joys of a 
physician's life. 



170 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Miss DuplESSIS. 
(Laughing.) 

Nothing like being prepared for the worst, Gilbert. 

Dr. Allyn. 

True ; but let us hope there will be no worst. To balance mat- 
ters, Kathryn, I'll call on you tomorrow morning — and (Laugh- 
ing.) I'll forget to tell Matsada where I'm going. 

Miss DuplESSIS. 
That will be an improvement, Gilbert, dear. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 

Our courtship has occasionally been disturbed by telephone 
rings, hasn't it? 

Mrs. DuplESSIS. 
(Aside, to herself.) 
More preliminary training. 

Miss DuplESSIS, 
Occasionally ! Well, I wish I had kept tab. 

Mrs. DuplESSIS. 

It's evident that Don Cupid should have taken a medical de- 
gree. He's a little out of harmony with doctors' courtships. 



THE BLOOD OP THE EAT HERS 171 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gravely.) 
I'll take the little rascal in charge and train him in courtship 
of the practical kind. 

Miss DUPLKSSIS. 
(Poutingly.) 

Better take yourself in hand, Gilbert, and learn the sentimental 
variety. 

Dr. Allyn, 

(Taking Miss DuplESSis' hand and bowing loiv 

over it.) 
ToiicJiea, mademoiselle! But with the aid of that picture (In- 
dicating picture of Miss Duplessis on desk.) I'm learning fast. 

Mrs. Duplessis. 
Don't mind me, children. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
We don't. 

[He kisses Miss DuplEssis.] 

Mrs. Duplessis. 
(Moving tozvard exit, door of reception hall.) 
Come, Kathryn, dear — we really must be going. 

Miss Duplessis. 
Yes, Mamma. 



172 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

[Dr. Allyn and Kathryn follow 
Mrs. DuplEssis, the doctor with his arm 
around his fiajiccc] 

Miss DuPLEssis. 
(Raising Jicr finger warningly.) 
Don't forget, Gilbert, that you have a very important engage- 
ment for tomorrow evening. 

Dr. Allyn, 

I not only will not forget, but if any one tries to interfere 
with our plans (Savagely.) — well, I'll poison him. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Extending liand.) 
And you'll not forget to read the letters I gave you? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gravely.) 
No — if you really wish me to read them, dear. But I shall 
read them only to please you, and not by way of investigation. 

Miss DuplEssis. 
(Smiling and raising her lips to be kissed.) 
Thank you, dear. 

[He kisses Iter, they exchange good- 
bys, the doctor shows the ladies out 
through curtained door of reception hall 
and returns to desk. Picks up photograph 
and ga,':cs at it steadily for a niontent.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 173 

Dr. Allyn. 

The resemblance is simply startling! The expression of the 
eyes, the shape and poise of the head — even the mouth is what 
his would be if his face were younger and smoothly shaven. 
(Regards picture intently.) Pshaw ! What rank nonsense ! 
(Throws photograph on table.) The thing is as impossible as 
it would be monstrous. (Picks up photograph and looks at it 
again.) My hobby is beginning to ride nie! My apologies to 
you and to the uniform you wore, Charles Hetherington — 
hero and patriot ! I'm ashamed of my vivid imagination. 
(Lays dozvn photograph and picks up packet of letters.) I 
promised Kathryn I would read these letters, — and I must 
keep faith with her. Let my promise to her be my justifica- 
tion, Charles Hetherington ! 

[Dr. Allyn lights a cigar and half 
seats himself on corner of desk. Care- 
lessly extracts a letter at random from 
the packet, opens it and ivith an indif- 
ferent air perfunctorily glances over it.'\ 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Sympathetically , laying dozvn the first letter and 
picking tip another.) 
Poor fellow ! He had plenty of heart, and he certainly loved 
his daughter. 

[He listlessly opens the second letter 
and begins to read.] 
(Continuing.) 
His farewell letter on leaving for the Philippines. (Reflective- 
ly.) But why did he not go to see her and bid her good-by? 
[Continues reading. 



174 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

As. the doctor proceeds zvith his read- 
ing his face expresses, at first interest 
and then consternation, and lie stands 
doivn from desk.] 
(Reading aloud.) 

If anything should happen to me while in the Philippines, a 
good friend of mine has promised to act as your guardian. I 
have placed in his hands for you what money I have, with 
instructions to continue your education — so far as the money 
will permit. The balance, if any, is to be turned over to you 
when you become of age. I feel that your interests are safe 
in the hands of my best friend — George Maxwell ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Horrified and clutching at Jiis desk for support.) 
My God ! George Maxwell, her pretended guardian, was her 
own father — and under his true name! 

[Throzirs letter on desk and picks itp 
photograph.] 
(Continuing.) 
George Maxwell ! Gentleman George ! Bank robber and — 
murderer ! — and Kathryn is his daughter ! — God ! no. It can't 
be true — there's a terrible mistake somewhere ! (Starts zcith 
sudden recollection.) Ah ! Maxwell's letters ! — and his 
daughter's photograph ! Why have I never opened that 

'■ ' [Hastens to safe, nervously opens it 

and zvith some difficulty finds packet of 
letters. Takes letters from safe and 
stands for a moment gating at the 
packet as if afraid to inspect it. Pulls 
himself together by a violent effort.] 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 175 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Continuing, firmly.) 
Come, my friend, be a man ! If the worst is to come, face it! 

[Opens packet and extracts photo- 
graph, gases at picture for a moment as 
if dased.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Continuing, dropping letters and photograph to 
the floor in front of open safe.) 
Kathryn ! 

[He clasps his forehead in his hand 
and totters aimlessly to chair above desk. 
Falls into chair and assumes an attitude 
of prostration and deepest dejection.] 

[Enter Matsada, by reception hall.] 

Matsada. 
(Solicitously.) 
Is honorable doctor to be sick? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Recovering himself and affecting composure^) 
No, Matsada — not sick, jiist tired, 

Matsada. 
Will honorable doctor the patients to see? 



176 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Explosively.) 

Damn the ! (Wearily.) No, Matsada. Tell them to 

call tomorrow morning. Say that I've suddenly been called 
away. 

Matsada. 

(Bowing low and backing out through curtains 
of reception room door.) 
Yis, sar. — Thank you, sar. 

[Exit Matsada.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Turning to desk and picking up Kathryn's picture.) 
Innocent victim of society's sins ! Helpless offering on the 
altar of a remorseless heredity! George Maxwell, your re- 
venge upon society is complete. Why must your daughter 
and I pay the price? Even though she did not stand in the 
shadow of an awful paternity, she is bone of the bone, blood 
of the blood and brain of the brain of an opium-eating sui- 
cide! My God! What chance has she to escape? — And her 
children? — It can not be! — I must not tempt fate. 

[Lays down picture and zvalks about.] 

(Continuing.) 

It is all unfair to her — but she inherited social unfairness with 
her blood. Society was unfair to her before she was born — ■ 
it was unfair to her father — to her mother. Unfairness is the 
common heritage of the brood of Ishmael. (Halts and faces 
dozvn stage.) And this is the end of my romance ! How 
like Eden was our paradise ! When knowledge came, then 
came disaster. But when Adam left the gates of that earthly 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 177 

paradise behind him, Eve was by his side, whilst we — we 
must go our several ways alone ! Why could we not have been 
ignorant islanders in the far-off Southern seas? — There could 
we have lived and loved and listened to the prattle of our 
children and of our children's children — until for us time 
should have been no more. There Nature would have been 
kind. — No science there with ruthless hand to tear us apart. 
But here — and now ! Duty! Duty! (Walks about.) Ross was 
right. Duty is an ugly word. How can I explain to Kathryn ? 
— And she expects me tomorrow evening! God! If I break 
our engagement and tell her the truth it will kill her. If I do 
not explain, she'll think me a cad. Well, better that than the 
other — better a plausible lie than either. But I can't look into 
her eyes and lie ! For the first time in my life I'm a coward ! 
[Goes to desk, stands for a moment 

reflecting, then seats himself and begins 

to zvrite.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Reading aloud as he ivritcs:) 
My dear Miss Duplessis: — Since our conversation of this 
morning relative to your family, I have been seriously con- 
sidering the situation, and have decided that it is best for all 
concerned that our engagement be broken. Aside from the 
fact that you are not, as I had supposed, Mrs. Duplessis' own 
daughter, I find that I am less interested than I had believed 
myself to be — 

[Pauses and exclaims with emotion:] 

Interested ! Ye Gods ! What a contemptible lie ! 

(Continues writing and reading:) 
My work is absorbing and requires practically all my atten- 



178 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

tion. In marrying under present conditions I should do an 
injustice to both the woman I married and my own life work. 
Call this selfish if you will — I should not blame you if you 
did — you will still, I think, admit its cogency and, in time I 
hope, will see that what I am doing is for the best. (Pauses 
and exclaims zvith emotion:) God knows it is for the best! 

(Continues ivriting and reading:) 
Under the circumstances it would be better that we should 
not keep our engagement for tomorrow evening. Very sin- 
cerely, — Gilbert Allyn. 

[Folds, encloses, addresses and stamps 
letter. Rises, letter in hand, and looks 
mournfully at envelope.]^ 
(Continuing, sadly.) 
If Kathryn Duplessis is not cured of all respect for me — to 
say nothing of love — when she reads that letter, I — well, I'm a 
poor judge of character. 

[Presses push button on desk. 
'Phone rings, anszvers 'pJwne.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

Hello ! (Starts with surprise.) Oh, yes Kathryn — 

What a — what a pleasant surprise ! Oh, no, I'm — 

quite well, just a little fatigued, that's all. And you? 

That's good. Forget? Why, of course 

not! Oh, yes, I — I am on time — sometimes. Good- 

by, — dearest. 

(With great emotion.) 
That voice ! — The sweetest in the whole wide world ! 

[Stands for a moment irresolutely, let- 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS i^g 

ter in hand, picks up ^liss DuplEssis' 
picture and gazes earnestly at it. 

Enter Matsada and stands expectantly 
at door, at left.] 
Did honorable doctor make the bell to ring? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Abruptly putting dozvn picture. Hesitatingly.) 
Y — yes — mix me a cocktail. 

Matsada. 
(Proceeding to mix drink.) 
Yis, sar. — Thank you, sar. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Reflectively.) 

What right have I to render a snap judgment in a case like 
this? What right have I to make that poor girl unhappy? — 
There are exceptions to all rules, even of heredity — and 
Kathryn is physically perfect. 

[Matsada approaches zuith cocktail. 
Dr. Allyn drinks it. 
Exit Matsada, pausing at exit.] 

Matsada. 
Shall the low-born the honorable letter to post? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sharply.) 

Damn the letter ! Don't be so officious, Matsada ! 



i8o THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Matsada. 
Yis, sar. — Thank you, sar. 

[Exit Matsada. 

The doctor stands for a moment, let- 
ter in hand, then determinedly goes to 
the fire place. Tears letter to pieces, 
throiving fragments one after the other 
into the grate. When they are consumed 
he returns to desk, picks up Kathryn's 
picture and admiringly and ivith emotion 
gases at it.] 

CURTAIN. 



THE FOURTH ACT 

SCENE ONE 



THE FOURTH ACT 



SCENE I. 



TIME — Tzvo years later. A Winter 
Morning. 
SCENE: 

The Breakfast room at the Allyns'. 

In the center of the room is a small round table set for tzvo, 
shoiving a silver coffee urn and the conventional table 
furnishings in fine chinazvare and silver. In the center 
of the table is a vase of red roses. 

There are several extra chairs and a serving table and a potted 
palm at rear center. Mantel and grate at right, zvith 
gilt ormolu clock and sezwral vases. The zvalls of the 
room are richly paneled and hung in pale blue and 
gold. 

Large double zvindozvs at rear center, extending to floor and 
partly hidden by pale blue curtains. 

Practical doors at right and left. 

[The doctor and his zvife are seen sit- 
ting at the breakfast table.] 
183 



i84 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Wiping his mouth with Jiis napkin, pushing back 

his chair and looking at his zvatch.) 
The coffee was excellent, my dear, and the rolls superb. I 
feel quite fit, and ready for the day's work — and I've plenty 
of it to do. 

Mrs. Allyn, 
(Tartly.) 
Riding hobbies, as usual, I suppose. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Genially.) 
Not entirely, my love. A fellow has to keep close to the 
earth part of the time. I confess, though, that I do prefer 
the hobbies. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Sneering.) 
Yes — Necessity is my fairy god-mother. It's a pity she 
doesn't remind you oftener of your responsibilities. 

[Dr. Allyn shrugs his shoulders. 
Atkins, the maid, enters at right zvitJi 
the morning papers and offers them to 
Mrs. Allyn.] 

Atkins. 
The mornin' pypers. Ma'am. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Crisply.) 
Give me the Herald, Atkins. 



THB BLOOD OF THE PATHBRS 185 

Atkins. 
(Selecting and presenting paper.) 

Yes, Ma'am. 

[Mrs. Allyn proceeds to read the 
paper.] 

Atkins. 
(Offcnng paper to Dr. Allyn.j 
The Times, sir? 



(Taking paper.) 
Thank you, Atkins. 



Dr. Allyn. 



[Doctor begins reading. 
Bxit Atkin, door at right.'] 



Mrs. Allyn. 
(Snecringly, looking up from paper.) 
So this was the important engagement that prevented you 
from taking me to the opera last evening! (Reads aloud, 
slowly.) Dr. Gilbert Allyn, the well known neurologist, ad- 
dresses the Manhattan Social Science Club on Capital Pun- 
ishment in its Relations to Social Self Defense . 

[She throws tJie paper on the floor 
and looks severely at the doctor.] 
(Continuing.) 

And you prefer that sort of thing to an evening of music in 
the company of your wife! 



i86 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 

Why, my dear, it is not a matter of — well, of preferring my 
work to your society. If I am to accomplish anything in the 
world, you and I both must make sacrifices. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Snappishly.) 

Yes; but the sacrifices are one-sided. What do yoti sacrifice 
in wasting an entire evening over your pet hobby ? 

Dr. Allyn. 

Well, dear, I feel that in depriving myself of the pleasure of 
your society I am making considerable sacrifice, even though 
my work is in itself agreeable. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Hotly.) 
You needn't be satirical ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Coolly.) 

I really did not intend to be satirical, my dear, but since you 
take it that way, I might remark that you know best whether 
you would have made last evening agreeable for me. In your 
present mood you — 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Indignantly.) 
Mood ! Mood ! That's the man of it. Whenever a woman 
stands up for her rights it's a matter of mood ! 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 187 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 
All right, my dear, if it will please you better we will take it 
for granted that for once the sacrifice was not great. (Look- 
ing at his zvatch and rising.) I fear I shall have to excuse 
myself, Kathryn. I promised — 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Irritably.) 
That's always the way ! You never have any time for me ! 
Mamma was right — a woman who marries a doctor is a fool! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gravely.) 

Mothers-in-law are okvays right — at least I'm going to try 
and believe that mine is — the more especially as I suspect that 
you misunderstood her. But if being late at my consultation 
will help any, why here goes. 

[Scats himself resignedly, shrugging 
his shoulders and laying dozvn the nezvs- 
papcr. Produces a cigar. 1 
(Continuing.) 

Don't mind if I smoke, do you, my dear? 

Mrs. Allyn, 
(Snappishly.) 
As if it made any difference whether I liked it or not! 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Earnestly.) 
It certainly does make a difference. 



i88 THE BLOOD OF THE PAT HERS 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Sighing resignedly.) 
Oh, go ahead — make a ham of yourself, if you like. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Lighting cigar.) 
Thank you, my love. I almost wish you could join me. We 
doctors preach against tobacco, but we find it very soothing. 
Come, little girl, what is there about my hobby that is so ob- 
jectionable? 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Tartly.) 
It takes up a lot of time that — 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Interrupting.) 
That should be devoted to boiling the pot, eh? 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Defiantly.) 
Yes ; that should be devoted to boiling the pot. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Thoughtfully.) 
But what is life worth to an ambitious man if he thinks only 
of the flesh pots? Every man owes something to his fellow 
man. 



THB BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 189 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Sneeringly.) 
His fellow man ! — Bosh ! Gilbert Allyn, I've come to the con- 
clusion that what you lack is common sense ! If you had more 
of that and less learning you'd be a lot better off ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 

Indeed! What new evidence have you dug up on that point? 

Mrs. Allyn. 

New evidence ! No new evidence is necessary — I've been your 
wife long enough to form an opinion from daily experience. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Then you think that anything I may do for the betterment of 
social conditions is sheer foolishness? 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Emphatically.) 
I most certainly do. And what's more, I have my doubts as 
to your sincerity. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(In astonishment.) 
Of my sincerity — why, Kathryn! 

Mrs. Allyn. 

Yes ; of your sincerity. (Sneeringly.) I fancy that a desire 
for notoriety has much to do with your philanthropy stunts. 



igo THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

[Picks up nezvspaper and displays it 
accusingly.] 
(Continuing.) 
Headlines in big caps are probably quite to your taste. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Lying back in his cJiair and laughing heartily.) 
Kathryn, dear, you are so illogically funny that I forgive your 
rather pointed allusions to my mental atrophy and luxurious 
egotism. You ought to have been a doctor, Kathryn. The 
Medical Knockers' Club is probably agreeing this morning with 
your estimate of your husband. The top-notch doctors are say- 
ing I'm a fool and the fellows who never did anything, that 
I'm a good advertiser — a useless waste of energy, for it's mere- 
ly a repetition of what they all have said before. (Flipping 
ashes from his cigar.) You surely are an apostle of medical 
ethics, my love. So long as you accept popular fame as proof 
that a physician is either a fool or an unethical advertiser, or 
both, you'll be perfectly regular. 

Mrs. Allyn. 

Gilbert Allyn, you are impossible ! 

[With a gesture of impatience she re- 
sumes reading her nezvspaper.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Rising and looking at liis zvatch.) 
And now that I have been duly classified and labeled by an 
expert, please may I go forth to the day's work? 

[Mrs. Allyn petulantly shrugs Jier 
shoulders and does not anszver.] 



THE, BLOOD OF THB FATHERS igi 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Aside, to himself.) 
Any man who ever accuses his wife of having moods is a base 
slanderer, and ought to be put in jail. 

[Enter Atkins at right with a num- 
ber of letters. Stops just within en- 
trance. The couple look inquiringly at 
her.] 



Mrs. Allyn. 



(Crossly.) 
Well? 



Atkins. 
The mornin' mail, ma'am. 

[Approaches Mrs. Allyn and hands 
her several letters zvhich she proceeds to 
open and read.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Is there anything for me, Atkins ? 

Atkins. 
A lot of them, sir. 

[Hands the doctor a number of let- 
ters.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Taking letters.) 
Thank you, Atkins. 

[Atkins goes to door at right.] 



JQ3 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Atkins. 
(To herself, stopping at door, looking back at her 
master and mistress and sighing prodigiously.) 
How very nice the master is. 

[Exit Atkins.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Glancing over the letters and regarding one in- 
tently. To himself.) 
From the Philippines ! — Helen ! 

[Puts letter in his pocket."] 
(Continuing, aloud.) 
Nothing here that will not keep until this evening. 

[He lays remaining letters on the 
mantel.] 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Delightedly, rising, letter in hand.) 
Oh. Gilbert! Isn't this grand? Here's an invitation to Mrs. 
Park Williston's reception and ball ! 

[Hands invitation to Dr. Allyn.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Reading invitation critically.) 
Well, it appears to be genuine. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(IVonderingly.) 
How in the world did she happen to invite us? 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 193 

Dr. Allyn. 



(Smilingly.) 
She evidently is a G. P. 



A G.-P.? 



Mrs. Allyn. 



Dr. Allyn. 
Yes; a grateful patient. No wonder you never heard of the 
phenomenon before. It's a species of bird as rare as the dodo 
or the great auk. Mrs. Williston fancies that I recently 
rendered her good service, and as Mother Nature isn't jealous, 
I let it go at that. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
Yes ; but I never have met her and — 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Satirically.) 
And the invitation is rather unconventional, eh ? Well, her 
illness was recent, and she remembers the pain better than she 
does the conventions. She had a terrific neuralgia — and if the 
memory of a neuralgia will not make a society woman forget 
conventionalities, nothing will. But don't worry, my dear — 
she'll come out of it. They always do. (Laughing.) Wait 'till 
Williston gets my bill. 

[Mrs. Allyn lays invitation on the 
table, pleadingly laying her hand on the 
doctor's arm.] 

Mrs. Allyn. 
Oh, Gilbert ! Do let us accept the invitation. It will give me 



194 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

an opportunity to get in with the right sort of people — the 
best opportunity I ever have had. The WilHston family is one 
of the oldest in New York. Mrs. Wilhston is one of our 
social leaders. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Satirically.) 
Yes ; she's one of the Four Hundred. And she really belongs, 
too. She was a Van — something or other. Her great-great 
grandfather made a fortune swapping bad whiskey and worse 
religion with the Indians for good land and fine furs. The 
original Williston was a British ticket-of-leave man, who 
wasn't so bad when he had a chance to be decent. (Laughing.) 
Don't know what he would have thought of Park Williston — 
he's a shearer of Wall Street lambs. They say his crops of 
wool are immense. (Flipping the ashes from his cigar.) The 
original Williston probably never took anything that was 
nailed down ; the present head of the house isn't so particular. 
There are reasons why I ought to study Wall Street more 
and Blackwell's Island less. Yes — the Willistons belong to 
the Four Hundred, all right ! (Satirically.) So condescending 
of them to invite us ! So grand to have an opportunity to 
break into society ! 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Tearfully.) 
I think we might accept. T don't like to be buried all my life. 
There ought to be a law forbidding physicians to marry. 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Laughingly.) 
Instead of an unwritten law commanding them to do so, eh? 
It might be an improvement in some ways. 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 195 

[Picks up invitation and reads it 
again.] 
(Continuing.) 
Well, Kathryn, I'm going to give you a little surprise. I'll not 
promise to get into the reception habit or make a contract to 
reform, but I'll mend my ways to the extent of attending this 
particular function. 

[Tosses invitation upon the table.] 

Mrs. Allyn. 

(Delightedly, thronnng her arms around her hus- 
band's neck.) 
Gilbert, dear ! Do you really mean it ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Kissing her.) 
I certainly do. But you must keep track of the date, my dear, 
and keep me reminded of it, or I may have a relapse and lose 
the opportunity of giving for one evening an imitation of an 
attentive and dutiful spouse. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Gayly.) 
Rest assured I'll not allow you to forget it, Gilbert. I'll not be 
sure of you until — 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 
Until we are homeward bound after the reception, eh? Well, 
I don't blame you. If I fail you this time, why — I'll let you 
give the next lecture. 



10 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Gayly.) 
I'll be glad of the chance, just to make you jealous. I've been 
thinking for a long time of preparing a lecture on matrimony 
as a substitute for the electric chair. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing heartily and putting his arm around her.) 
If things are as bad as that I really must reform. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
I suppose you know, Gilbert, that I've nothing to wear to such 
an event? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Really, dear, I hadn't noticed it. but now that you've men- 
tioned it, put in a rush order with your dressmaker and get 
the proper plumage for the occasion. Don't hit 'em too hard, 
for you could put the Four Hundred's noses out of joint and 
wear nothing but calico. (Pinching her cheek.) If you are 
too gorgeously attired you may make me unpopular with my 
fashionable women patients. Beauty and fine raiment together 
are a bad combination when envy stalks abroad. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Kissing him.) 
You get another kiss for that. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Tenderly.) 
The most profitable speech I ever made. 

[Kissing her in return,] 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 197 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Gayly.) 
Wait 'till you see the bills. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Bills ! Never mind the bills (Laughing.) I haven't sent Willis- 
ton his bill yet, you know, so use your own discretion as to 
how much financial grief you plunge me into. 

[Puts Ids hands together as if in prayer 
and imitates a preacher.] 
(Continuing.) 

All that a man hath will he give to his wife. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 

How accurately you quote scripture. Really, dear, you missed 
your calling. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Thank you, my love. With due modesty I'll admit that my 
version of the Scriptures would be popular with the women 
folks, and as for the music — (Imitates a preacher.) The con- 
gregation will now join in singing that bea — utiful hymn: — 
I want to be a climber, and with the climbers stand. Speak- 
ing of the clergy reminds me of the conventional. Just to show 
you that I'm a good sport, I'm going to order a new dress 
suit for the occasion. (Laughing.) To make sure that I'm 
properly harnessed for the social menagerie, perhaps I'd better 
get Ross Hartwell to advise me. He can give Berry Wall cards 
and spades. 



198 THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Interestedly.) 

Will Mr. Hartwell be at the Williston's ? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Sure ! WilHston and he studied art together and later were 
partners in the decorating business. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
Art? 

Dr. Allyn. 
Yes — art. They used so much vermilion in their paint that, 
if they had kept on, New York would have burned a hole in 
Manhattan Island — and dropped into Hades to cool off. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Absently.) 
Oh — I see. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Contimiing.) 
Williston married, Ross reformed, and New York resumed 
her normal pink. They like to get together again and talk it 
all over. And now, please, may I go to that consultation? 
Under the circumstances I can hardly afford to miss that fee. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Kissing him and leading him by the arm toivard 
door at left.) 
Hurry along, dear, and please don't undervalue your services. 
(Holds up her finger warningly.) Remember the new plumage. 
[The doctor goes to door at left. 
Turns at exit.] 



THB BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 199 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Banteringly.) 

By the way, dear, try and arrange with the society editors not 
to mention our presence at the reception. I don't Hke pubHc- 
ity; it isn't ethical — and you abhor it, you know. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Laughing and throwing him a kiss.) 
If they don't pubhsh it in black faced type I shall simply die. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Consistency, thy name is woman ! 

[B.vit Doctor. 

Mrs. Allyn goes back to breakfast 
table, picks up invitation and scans it 
with great satisfaction.'] 



Mrs. Allyn. 
(Musingly.) 
So, it has come at last — and the Williston's, of all places ! Well, 
if one begins near the top it saves a good many steps — and 
life is short. And to think that Ross Hartwell will be there, 
and I shall dance with him ! Plumage ? Expense ? Just watch 
your little Kathryn, Gilbert, dear! 



CURTAIN. 



THE FOURTH ACT 

SCENE TWO 



THE FOURTH ACT 



SCENE II. 

TIME — Tzi'o weeks later. Morning. 
SCENE: 

Dr. Allyn's library and consultation room. 

[Matsada is standing near door lead- 
ing into reception hall. 
Atkins is arranging desk.] 

Matsada. 
(Grinning.) 
Better you be much careful wit' tings on honorable doctor's 
desk. 

Atkins. 
(Scornfidly.) 

Careful ! Careful ! Fawncy now ! It's not you that should 
be teachin' your betters. An' you needn't put on no h'airs 
h'over me, just because you're the butler, neither, Mr. Nayger. 
HTve seen real butlers in H'England, H'l'd 'ave you know. 

Matsada. 
(Angrily, taking a step tozcard her.) 
What you mean — that Nayger?-' 

203 



204 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Atkins. 
(Defiantly.) 
Well, you needn't be a gettin' of your temper h'up h'about it. 
There's h'only two kinds of people: them as is w'ite an' them 
as h'isn't. You cawnt say you're w'ite, an' h'if you're not 
w'ite, then wot h'are you? 

Matsada. 
(Proudly.) 
Me Japanese — me Samurai ! 

Atkins. 
(Surveying him critically.) 
Oh, h'are you now, really? '0\v h'extraordinary ! H'l 
thought your nyme w^as Matsy. H'l 'ad a beau once, an' 'is 
nyme was Sammy Ray, same as yours. But H'l never was 
very keen h'on 'im no'ow. 'E was a butler, too. 

Matsada. 

(Shrugging Jiis shoulders and holding up his 
hands despairingly.) 
Oh, you not understand it — that Samurai — 

Atkins. 

(Pertly, approaching Matsada and making a 
zvry face at him.) 
Don't H'l, though? Well, HTm not takin' no lessons from 
no h'uncivilized h'aboriginal savage, h'any'ow^ 

[Matsada throzvs Jiis arms about her 
and kisses her resoundingly. Dr. Allyn 



IHU BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 205 

suddenly enters, at left, and surveys the 
scene. Matsada and Atkins spring 
apart. Atkins proceeds to frantically 
dust the mantel, zvhile Matsada pre- 
tends to be arranging curtains of en- 
trance from reception hall. 
The doctor goes to desk, laughingly 
glancing at Matsada and Atkins.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(To himself.) 
A.nother Anglo-Japanese alliance, eh? Uncle Sam would bet- 
ter look out. 

[Seats himself, zvrites briefly, en- 
closes, seals and addresses letter.] 



Matsada. 



Yis, sar. 



Dr. Allyn. 



Matsada. 



Dr. Allyn. 



If you have arranged that blind to suit you, kindly delivet 
this letter for me. 



Matsada. 
Yis, sar. Thank you, sar. 

[Goes to doctor and takes letter.] 



2o6 THB BLOOD OF THB FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Suai'cly.) 

I'll not need you for a couple of hours, Matsada; meanwhile 
amuse yourself in any way you like — away from the house. 

Matsada. 
Yis, sar. Thank you, sar. 

[Goes to door at left. Pauses and 
turns at exit.'] 

Matsada. 
(To himself.) 

It is to be verra luckee doctor did not make to see the honora- 
ble keess ! 

[Exit Matsada.] 



Atkins. 



Yes, sir. 



Dr. Allyn. 



Atkins. 



Dr. Allyn, 



Atkins, I fear that you and Matsada are not getting along 
quite smoothly. 

Atkins. 

No, sir ! 'E 's a h'uncivilized 'eathen, sir, an' 'e 'as a very 
bad temper, sir. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 207^ 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gravely.) 

Well, be very patient with him, Atkins. There's nothing like 
the refining influence cf woman to curb savage natures. You'll 
find him an apt pupil, Atkins. He seems to take to civiliza- 
tion like a duck to water. 

Atkins. 
Yes, sir. 

[Atkins goes to exit, door at left.] 

Atkins. 
(Pausing at exit, wonder ingly.) 
Now, wot'ever did the master mean? H'l wonder h'if he saw 
the h'outrageous w'y that 'eathen was a treatin' of me ! 
[B.rit Atkins. 

Dr. Allyn unlocks a draivcr at right 
hand side of desk, takes out a letter, 
pauses for a second, letter in hand, sighs 
and proceeds to open and read it.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Thoughtfidly, looking up from letter.) 
So Helen is coming home ! 

(Returning to letter and reading aloud.) 
I somehow feel that you need me — and I knozc that I need 
you. 

(Sighing.) 
Poor Helen ! You always have needed me. As for myself — 



2o8 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

well, you may be right. You certainly understood, and could 
meet me on the same intellectual plane. As for anything more, 
why — perhaps I was a fool. But I'm not the only man who 
ever loved first and philosophized afterward. If humanity 
would only reverse the order of things and reflect first and 
love afterwards! Reflect! Reflect! / don't dare reflect! 
The man who wakes from a beautiful dream is always sorry 
he woke. — God knows how hard I'm trying to sleep — and to 
keep my dream ! 

(Continuing reading letter.) 
My brain has lain fallow in this awful place and my heart 
aches for the refinements of life. I know now why home- 
sickness kills — and so, dear friend, I'm coming home. — 

(Shaking his head.) 
Poor girl ! I don't blame you — but for your own sake I — 
Well, I wish that the Philippines were more attractive — I'm 
sorry, Helen, but I'll have to ask you to excuse me for the 
moment. 

[Puts letter in draiver and locks it. 
Rises and looks at his watch. Pushes 
call button on desk. 
Enter Atkins, at left.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

Atkins, if any one calls before eleven, don't disturb me. Ask 
them to wait or call again. 

[Goes to exit, door at left.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Pausing at exit.) 
Oh, by the way, Atkins: If Matsada should reciprocate your 



THB BLOOD OP THE PATHERS 209 

endeavors to civilize him, be a little careful, especially in learn- 
ing jiu jitsu. Some of the holds are a bit dangerous to the 
heart — and very unconventional. 



(Curtsying.) 
Thank you, sir, 



Atkins. 



[Exit Dr. Allyn, laughing. 

Atkins proceeds to examine hooks in 
case.] 



Atkins. 
(Reading aloud title of hooks.) 
Ncwrology, by Dr. Haitch H'Old'am. My word ! 'Oo h'ever 
'eard of a 'am a writin' of a book? 

[Office door bell ri)igs.] 

Atkins. 
(Continuing.) 
'Uman H'anatcmy. — wot h'ever is that, I wonder? 

[Takes book from case and proceeds 
to examine it. After glancing at several 
pages she seats herself in an adjacent 
chair and comfortably settles herself to 
read. 

Office door hell rings again, violent- 
ly. 

Atkins jumps tip suddeidy with a 
scream, throzving hook some distance 
azuay and covering her face zvith her 
hands.] 



210 THB BLOOD OP THE FATHURS 

Atkins. 

Oh, tyke it aw'y ! Tyke it aw'y ! (Angrily, lowering hands 

from Jicr face.) HTll give notice this very dye; HTm only 

a servin' myde, but H'l'm respectable, so H'l am? An' H'l 

thought the master was such a nice man. H'l wonder if the 

missus h'ever — r r- . t ^ 7 

[Enicr jia[ Carrutiiers, by reception 

hall.] 

CaRRUTHIvRS. 

(Amusedly, taking in the situation at a glance.) 
Reading the Scriptures, eh, little one ? Looking at the pictures, 
too? Beg pardon for disturbing your pious meditations, but — 
[Atkins rushes to pick up book, re- 
turns it to case, closes case and stands 
zvith her back against it.] 

Atkins. 
(Saucily.) 

H'it's none of your business zvot H'l was a readin' of, Mr. 
Fresh ! An' HTave my h'opinion of gents wot walks h'in- 
to 'other people's 'ouses without ringin' of the bell. 

Carruthers. 
(Blandly.) 

So? And I've my opinion of pretty little maids who don't 
answer the door bell — and of people who leave street doors 
unlocked. 

Atkins. 
(Defiantly.) 

Nobody cares for your h'opinions. 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 211 

Carruthers. 
Oh, I don't know, (Approaching her.) some pretty girls do. 
[Chucks her under the chin.] 

Atkins. 
(JJlth pretended indignation.) 
Keep yonr 'ands h'off me, Mr. Fresh! 

CarrutiieRS, 
(Putting hands behind him.) 
Behave hands ! Naughty ! — naughty ! 

Atkins. 
'Oo are you an' wot do you want, h'any 'ow? 

CarrutitERS. 

I want to see the doctor. Here's my card. Take it to him, 
please. 

Atkins. 
(Ignoring card.) 

But you cawn't see the doctor, you know ; you really cawn't, 
'E gave me h'orders not to bother 'im 'till h' eleven o'clock, sir. 

Carruthers. 
(Insinuatingly.) 

Now see here, Clarice, I — 

Atkins. 
(Indignantly.) 

My nyme's not Clarice, sir. My nyme's 'Arriet. 



212 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Carruthe;rs. 
Why, it doesn't seem possible ! You remind me so much of 
a swell lady friend of mine on Fifth Avenue that I thoughtless- 
ly called you by her name. 

Atkins. 
(Smiling and evidently flattered.) 
Did you, really? (Curtsying.) Thank you, sir. 

Carruthers. 
And now, sweetheart, if you don't mind, I want to see the 
doctor. 

Atkins. 
But, really, Mr. 

Carruthers. 
(Playfully pincliing her cheek and again proffer- 
ing his card.) 
Carruthers, my dear. You may call me Jim. 

Atkins. 
(Curtsying and giggling and taking card.) 
Yes, sir, thank you, sir. But, Mr. Jymes, the doctor gyve 

[Carruthers smiles persuasively, tak- 
ing Atkins by the arm and leading her 
toward door at left.] 

Carruthers. 
That's all right, Pauline — I mean, 'Arriet. How long have you 
been over from dear ole Lunnon? 



THB BLOOD OF THH FATHERS 213 

Atkins. 
H'about six weeks, sir. 

CarruthErs. 

Oh, I see. That explains it. You haven't caught onto the 
ways of us Americans yet, and I'm a Httle slow catching onto 
the ways of English maids. Here's an American emblem for 
you. It may make you see things less literally. (Hands her a 
silver dollar.) This h'emblem may help you to get on at 
court, Rosetta — I mean, 'Arriet. 



(Amasedly.) 
At court, sir ! 



Atkins. 



Carruthers. 



Surest thing you know. We have a court and a king here 
in America. His name is Graft. He's a first cousin of King 
Tip of Merrie H'England. That's his visiting card I gave you. 
Now run along, Maud, dear — I mean, 'Arriet, and give my 
card to the doctor. Here, take this for good measure. 
[Kisses her. 

Atkins affects to resist being kissed, 
but evidently is pleased. Goes to door 
at left. Partly re-opens door and looks 
back at Carruthers for a second.] 

Atkins. 
(To herself.) 

Wot a very nice man ! An' my word ! but e's 'andsome ! Won- 



214 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

der if 'e's married. H'of course 'e h'is. That kind h'always 
h'is. 

[Closes door.] 

CarruthErs. 
(To himself.) 
Jim Carruthers, your versatility may be necessary in your 
business, but it's bound to get you into trouble some day, 
(Shrugs his shoulders.) Well, it's all in the day's work, and 
if trouble comes in petticoats, surmounted by a pretty face, 
why — I'll try and face it like a man. 

[Goes to doctor's desk, picks up a book 
and begins perusing it. 

Enter Dr. Allyn, card in hand, Car- 
ruthErs lays dozvn book.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Looking from Carruthers to card.) 
Mr. Carruthers? 

Carruthers. 
(Advancing to meet the doctor.) 
James Carruthers — at your service, sir. This, I believe, is Dr. 
Gilbert Allyn? 

Dr. Allyn. 

That is my name, sir. And what, may I ask, is your business 
with me? I'm a little pressed for time this morning and, 
(Smiling.) as you are not a promising looking subject for a 
patient I — 



THE BLOOD OP THE PATHERS 215 

Carruthers. 

I quite comprehend, Doctor, and will state my business as 
briefly as possible. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Thank you, sir. Be seated, please. 

\They seat themselves, Carruthers 
ill chair belozv desk, doctor in desk 
cJiair.] 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Reflectively, looking at card.) 
I don't recall your name, Mr. Carruthers, but I fancy I've 
seen you before. Your face seems familiar. 

Carruthers. 
(Smiling.) 
We have met before, but casually, only. I'm a detective from 
Central. 

Dr. Allyn. 

Ah ! I remember you now. You're the gentleman who inter- 
fered so seriously with the business of a protege of mine, one 
Red Sullivan. (Laughing.) I owe you one for that, Car- 
ruthers ; he was mighty useful to me. 

Carruthers. 
(Laughing.) 
In pursuing your pet hobby, eh? I just had to get him, Doctor. 
And he's pretty comfortable where he is. He has a pull with 



2i6 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

the front office, so they made him orderly in the hospital at 
Sing Sing. He needn't have gone up — for he was mighty use- 
ful to us, too — only he got a bit gay with one of Boss Conner- 
ton's lady friends — and that settled him. 

Dr. Allyn. 

So I heard. (Satirically.) Well, the morals of New York 
must be kept clean and the shrines of our statesmen kept un- 
defiled. 



Carruthers. 



(Laughing.) 
You're on, doctor. 



Dr. Allyn. 
(irith mock seriousness.) 
Say. Carruthers, you mustn't be so active in the performance 
of your duty. Please leave me a few crooks for scientific pur- 
poses. 

Cx^RRUTHERS. 

(Smiling.) 
Oh, you're pretty safe from my meddling for a while. I've 
changed my beat since I saw you last. I'm a kleptomania 
specialist now. 

Dr. Allyn. 
A what! 

Carruthers. 

A kleptomania specialist — I'm doing society stunts. I'm invited 
to all the society doings. My business is to keep an eye on 
wedding presents and see that the guests at swell social func- 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 217 

tions don't appropriate each other's jewelry or garments, or 
walk off with the family diamonds — or the kitchen range. 

Dr. Allyn. 
A combination of Sherlock Holmes and social lion, eh? 

Carruthers. 

Precisely. And I rather like the game. Don't feel at home 
now out of a dress suit. I've even had my pajamas cut like 
one. Evening clothes drift so naturally into night clothes, you 
know. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Laughing.) 

Fine ; I never thought of that. 

Carruthers. 

Meanwhile, the crooks are forgetting me and I can take a 
fresh hold by and by. ( Loiighing.) And I may cop out an 
heiress — who knows? 

Dr. Aixyn. 
(Ojfcring visitor a cigar.) 
Will you — 

Carruthers. 
(Taking cigar.) 
Thanks. 

[Tlicy light cigars and Dr. Allyn ex- 
pectantly aivaits his visito/s pleasure.] 



3i8 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Carruthers. 

And now to the business that brings me here. As you have 
surmised, Doctor, I'm not a fit subject for your profession just 
now. My errand is in the Hue of my own professional duty, 
although it is of considerable personal interest to yourself. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Smiling.) 

Ah, I see ; you wish to present something of interest bearing 
upon my hobby to which you just alluded? That is very good 
of you. 

Carrutiiers. 
(Gravely.) 
The relation to your scientific studies of the matter that 
brought me here is a question which I'm not competent to de- 
cide. I'm not up in such things. I called to see you regarding 
a little incident that occurred last night at Mrs. Williston's 
ball, which I believe you attended. Mrs. Vandervoort, whom 
you at least know by hearsay, lost some very valuable dia- 
monds. In my opinion they were taken by some guest. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Interestedly.) 

At Mrs. Williston's ball ? Then the diamonds were not found, 
after all! 

Carrutiiers. 
(Astonished.) 
How did you know that any were lost? 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 319 

Dr. Allyn. 

Why, I chanced to hear of it quite by accident while in the 
smoking room. I overheard two gentlemen speaking of the 
loss of a diamond ornament of some kind. I gathered that 
the lady who lost it was the wife of one of the gentlemen. I 
gave the matter no further thought. In any event, I do not 
quite see how my interest in the crime problem can be of 
service to you in the matter. 

Carruthe;rs. 
(Gravely.) 
You can be of the greatest assistance in this particular case. 



(Perplexedly.) 
Indeed! How, pray? 



Dr. Allyn. 



Carruthers. 



Dr. Allyn, I'm not often embarrassed in the performance of 
my professional duties, and seldom have any difficulty in com- 
ing to the point. I'm the victim of both handicaps this morn- 
ing and am hardly on the job. 

Dr. xA.LLYN. 

(Looking squarely at CarruthLRS.J 
I don't quite follow you. 

Carruthers. 

What I want to say is that — well, that I didn't come here to 
interest you in the scientific features of what I believe to have 



220 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

been the theft of the diamonds, or to ask your cooperation in 

detecting the culprit — that, I fear, has already been done. My 

business with you, I regret to say, is a very delicate matter, 

one that imposes on me a very disagreeable duty. In short, I — 

[While Carruthers is speaking Dr. 

Allyn gazes at him in amazement. As 

he concludes, the doctor rises slozvly out 

of Ills chair, confronting the detective.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Slou'ly.) 

What the devil are you driving at, sir? Do you mean to say 
that you suspect that I know — 

CarrutheRS. 
(Quietly.) 

Dr. Allyn, I have reason to believe that the person who knows 
more about the whereabouts of the missing diamonds than 
any one else is — your wife. 



Dr. Allyn. 



(Furiously.) 
What! You d d— 



[Dr. Allyn grasps a revolver from 
a half-open drazver at right of desk and 
covers Carruthers tvith it before the 
latter can recover from his astonishment. 
The detective stoops just as the pistol is 
fired, the hall grazing Ins temple, inflict- 
ing a slight zvound, and smashing the 
glass door of the book case. Before the 



THH BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 221 

doctor can fire again Carruthers knocks 
the pistol from his hand and grapples 
ivith him. The pistol falls some distance 
away. The tzvo men struggle fiercely 
about the room. The doctor suddenly 
grasps the detective by the throat as they 
ore locked together in a fierce grip. They 
go to the floor, the detective underneath. 
They fall against the desk as they go 
dozvn, the doctor striking his head on 
the corner of it. The detective frees 
himself and rises to his feet in a be- 
wildered fashion, gasping for breath and 
staggering. The doctor lies senseless on 
the floor.] 

Carruthe;rs. 
(Feeling of his throat in a pu::zled way.) 
What the devil? — What sort of a grip was that? My neck 
feels like a corkscrew with a sore throat and my head sounds 
like a balloon full of bumble bees. 

[Puts hand to temple, and examining 
his fingers finds them bloody. \ 

CarruThKRS. 
(Applying his handkerchief to his temple.) 
God ! That sure was a narrow squeak. An inch lower and my 
roof would have been off and I'd have been catching cold in 
my brains. (Stooping and examining Dr. Allyn.j A bit 
stunned, eh? Well, you'll be all right in a minute. If your 
head hadn't hit the corner of that desk it would have struck 



222 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

twelve for yours truly. You're some athlete, believe me, good 
doctor man, and you fight like a crazy Jap. 

[Throii's blood-stained liandkcychicf 
onto the desk and picks up revolver.] 
(Continuing.) 
Some cannon — that ! Wonder where our doctor friend gets 
his artillery . 

[Breaks gun, e.vtracts cartridges and 
throzvs them into ivaste basket. Tosses 
gun onto desk.] 
(Continuing.) 

Krupp must have made that baby to order. 

[Dr. Allyn begins to recover con- 
sciousness, struggles to sitting position, 
feeling of his head and looking about 
confusedly.] 

CARRUTHliRS. 

(SynipatJietically.) 
Bumped the bumps some, eh, old man? Come; let's be digni- 
fied. Your present position isn't becoming. 

[Assists the doctor to rise and places 
him in a chair, steadying him by grasping 
his arm. The doctor sits quietly for a 
moment.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Struggling to rise to his feet.) 
It's a damned, infernal lie! 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 223 

CarruthErs. 
(Cabiily forcing the doctor back into the chair.) 
Very well, so much the better. I hope it is. But let's talk it 
over like men and not fight like a couple of bull dogs. If I'm 
proved to be wrong, I'll be only too glad to offer my apologies 
and make a clean get-away. I've always admired you — and 
the scrap you put up just now hasn't lessened my esteem any. 

I'm so d d glad I'm alive, I couldn't hold a grudge if I 

tried. You surely are a peacherino! 



Dr. Allyn. 



(Solicitously.) 
Are vou hurt much? 



Carruthers. 
(Suavely.) 
Not much. Just a false chord played on my pneumogastric 
nerve by those strenuous fingers of yours and a furrow plowed 
by a grape shot through the northwest corner of my frontis- 
piece, (Pointing to wound on temple.) with a little indecent 
exposure of skull. If that ball had hit me plumb center I'd 
resemble one of those red paper hoops that the clown jumps 
through at the circus. I'd be largely a hole in the atmosphere, 
with a fringe of nice fresh meat around it. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Tliank God ! Then it's nothing serious. 

Carruthers. 
(Gravely.) 

You've reason to be thankful, sir. Had you kept your temper 



224- THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

and permitted me to fairly state the case, you'd have seen 
that by kiUing me you would merely railroad yourself to the 
electric chair without in the least helping the woman you love. 
As I said before, if I'm wrong, I'll apologize. If I'm right 
there shall be no publicity. All I want to do is to recover the 
diamonds. That I must do at whatever cost. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Pi'otcstingly, inistcadily rising to his feet.) 
But, sir, the idea that my wife knows anything about them 
is preposterous ! 

Carruthers. 
(SynipathcticaJly. ) 
Better sit down, Doctor. You're still a bit wabbly. 

Dr. Allyn. 

(Smiling faintly and resuming his seat.) 
I believe you're right. My legs feel as if they were made of 
calico. 

Carruthers. 

(Earnestly.) 
Now, Doctor, let's reason a bit. You know better than most 
men that the theory of the way the diamonds disappeared 
which I shall give you is not preposterous. Culture, social 
standing — nothing weighs in the balance of evidence. That's 
why I'm a — well, a kleptomania specialist. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Noiv completely recovered and self-possessed.) 
Carruthers. I offer my most contrite apologies for losing my 
self control and — 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 225 

Carruthkrs. 
(Bluntly.) 
And trying to evaporate me, eh? Well, forget it. Philosoph- 
ers are d d chumps, just like the rest of us, only they wear 

a coat of varnish that fools a fellow 'till it's cracked a bit, and 
besides, there are some things that make a fellow hit first and 
philosophize afterward. I sized you up wrong and let you 
get the drop on me, and that ruffles my pride, but I forgot the 
man behind the scientist. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Quietly.) 
And the tiger behind the man. 

Carruthers. 
You've hit it. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Kindly inform me, sir, why you suspect my wife. 

CarruthErs. 

There's no question but tliat Mrs. A^andervoort had the dia- 
monds in her hair when she arrived at the Williston's. The 
maid in the ladies' dressing room noticed the showy ornament 
in which they were set. Mrs. Vandervoort does not dance and 
she is positive that no one came near enough to steal the jewel 
but once — and she has no suspicion of even that occasion. As 
she came out of the dressing room a sudden draught blew 
against the old lady's face the veil of a woman v,ho was just 
entering. The veil caught in her ear-ring and the other woman 
had some difficulty in disengaging it. Mrs. Vandervoort did 



226 TUB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

not miss the jewel until just before she left for home. She 
reported it to Mr. Williston as lost, and the matter was re- 
ferred to me. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Rising.) 
And the other woman was — 

CarruthErs. 
Your wife. 

Dr. Allyn. 

But, my dear sir, the jewel may have been knocked off from 
Mrs. Vandervoort's head and picked up by some one. 

Carruthers. 

True, but the ornament was one of those heavy, old-fashioned 
heirloom affairs, with a lot of metal in it. It could hardly 
have fallen to the floor without attracting attention. Anyhow, 
it could easily have been seen, and while — kleptomaniacs — are 
not rare at such functions, the majority of the guests are not 
looking for such opportunities and it's not easy to pick up a 
valuable trinket without detection. 

Dr. Allyn. 
But the maid? 

Carruthers. 

Nothing doing in that quarter — that's a cinch. But she went 
through my private sweat box just the same — and she's still 
under shadow. In coming here I'm following out the most 
reasonable theory. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 227 

Dr. Allyn. 
But why should my wife — 

Carruthers. 
(Earnestly.) 
Will the man please step to the rear for a moment and give 
the scientist a chance to use his wits? Haven't you yourself 
said somewhere or other that some women are like children, 
and have about as much conception of property rights ? Didn't 
you once say that opportunity plus sudden impulse was largely 
responsible for crime? What about the women who rob our 
department stores? There are ten thefts by — kleptomaniacs — 
where there is one by professionals. Pshaw ! man, what's 
the use of my handing out your own dope to you? 

[JVJiile the detective is talking tJie 
doctor is ivalking about in great mental 
distress.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Firmly, turning to Carruthers.j 
The man shall go to the rear. If you will permit me, Car- 
ruthers, I myself will get to the bottom of this thing — in my 
own way and at once. If I fail, use your own discretion as 
to ways and means. Whatever the result may be, I rely on 
you to prevent scandal. I — I love my wife, sir, and I must 
ask that her good name be protected, be she guilty or inno- 
cent. 

CarruthERS. 

That's not only easy, but you can rely upon me to the limit. 
Mrs. Vandervoort's husband, as you overheard, laughs at the 



228 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

idea that his wife lost the jewel at the reception. He attributes 
its loss to her own carelessness. He's a level-headed old chap, 
and if the diamonds are recovered he'll ask no questions. The 
maid was so frightened by her own experience, and so glad 
to get rid of me, that she'll have lockjaw for the rest of her 
life. Mrs. Vandervoort thinks the jewel came loose from her 
hair and was picked up by some one. The Willistons rely on 
me and for reasons of their own will keep their mouths shut. 
The matter has not been reported to headquarters, and what 
Jim Carruthers thinks — is his own affair. And that's about 
all — in the matter of possible leaks. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Earnestly, extending hand.) 
I thank you more than I can express. 

[They clasp hands.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Continuing.) 
I feel sure that you're making a terrible mistake, but, what- 
ever the outcome, I shall consider myself under everlasting 
obligations to you. 

Carruthers. 
And I hope I'm wrong, doctor. But will your wife — 

Dr. Allyn. 

Tell me the truth? Perhaps not, but that is immaterial. I 
am master of myself now. If she is guilty, she may deny all 
knowledge of the jewel. But, guilty or innocent — I'm a 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 229 

psychologist, sir, and I shall know. Kindly step into that room 
and remain until I call you. 

[Shozvs Carruthers to room at right 
and pushes call button on desk.] 

Carruthers. 
(Turning at exit; admiringly, to himself.) 
Well, you're a game old sport, all right. If your psychology 
is as good as that grip of yours, her ladyship would better lose 
no time in coughing up. 

[Bxit Carruthers. 

Enter Atkins, door at left.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Quietly.) 
Kindly inform Mrs. Allyn that I wish to see her, Atkins. 

Atkins. 
Yes, sir. 

[B.vit Atkins.] 

Atkins. 
(Returning.) 
Please, sir, the missus says as 'ow she's busy, sir, and will 
you please give me the message, sir? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sharply.) 

Tell her that I wish to see her at once. 



230 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Atkins. 
Yes, sir. 

[Tunis at exit.] 

Atkins. 
(To herself.) 

Wot h'ever's the matter with the master? I wonder wot's 
h'up ? 

[Bxit Atkins. 

Enter Mrs. Allyn, in partial disha- 
bille.] 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Angrily.) 

Why couldn't you have told Atkins what you wanted? You 
knew I had a headache and didn't wish to be bothered ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gently.) 
Paidon me for disturbing you. my dear, but — 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Snccringly.) 
How courteous and considerate we are, all of a sudden ! You 
didn't care for my comfort a few minutes ago when you were 
trying to blow up the house with your awful chemicals. Why 
don't you get a laboratory somewhere else? This house is a 
perfect pandemonium. A boiler shop would be peaceful by 
comparison. What diabolical experiments are you making 
now ? 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 231 

Dr. Allyn. 

Why, I was a bit noisy, that's a fact. You see, a — well, a 
retort exploded and knocked things about some. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Sneeringly.) 
You needn't have taken the trouble to tell me about it. I 
heard and felt it plainly enough. (Turning to go.) And if 
you don't mind, I'll return to my toilet and leave you to your 
nasty chemicals. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Patiently.) 
Kathryn, a matter has come up which I must discuss with 
you — and at once. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Peevishly.) 
But, Gilbert, you know how I hate your tiresome business and 
professional matters. They make my head ache when I'm 
well — and I certainly am in no condition to listen to them this 
morning. It's in mighty poor taste to bother me with such 
things before I've had my breakfast. 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Gravely.) 
I did not ask you here at such an inconvenient moment merely 
to talk over commonplaces of business. It's a matter of more 
vital importance that compelled me to — to disturb you at this 
time. 



232 THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(U'ith some concern.) 
What in the world is the matter, Gilbert? 

Dr. Allyn, 
(Gravely.) 
Nothing serious, I hope, Kathryn, dear. The matter is so 
preposterous that my only excuse for presenting it to you is 
that, had I not done so, it would have been presented by others, 
less considerate than I. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(HaugJitily.) 
You are speaking in riddles too deep for me. Gilbert. What 
in the name of high heaven are you getting at? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Affectionately, laying his hand on her shoulder.) 
My dear girl, it's not always easy to speak plainly without ap- 
pearing brutal, even where we love deeply, but I will do my 
best. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Angrily, striking off his hand from her shoulder.) 
For heaven's sake, Gilbert, tell me what you're driving at, and 
get the thing over with ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(JJlth emotion.) ^ 

You, my wife, are accused of having — taken — a valuable jewel 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 233 

from Mrs. Vandervoort's hair at the WilUston's ball last 
evening. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Indignantly.) 
What! / — I am accused of stealing an article of jewelry? 
Who has dared to say such an awful thing? Can it be pos- 
sible that you, Gilbert Allyn, permitted without resentment 
such an indignity to be offered your wife? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sadly.) 
No, it's not possible. I did resent it, almost to my everlasting 
sorrow — ^but I was compelled to listen, whether I would or 
not. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Raging.) 

Compelled ! You, compelled to listen ? And by whom ? Who 
had the effrontery to come to you with such a damnable 
charge against your wife? Who has brought this lying ac- 
cusation against me? 

[TJic doctor steps closer to her and 
looks at Jier keenly.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Quietly and deliberately.) 
A detective from police headquarters, Kathryn. He is in 
the next room at this very moment, awaiting the result of my 
interview with you, 

[Mrs. Allyn's nerve fails Jier and her 
bravado disappears. She clutches at the 



234 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

bosom of her dress as if concealing some ■ 
thing and averts her face. She cozvcrs 
and acts as if she ivere about to fly from 
the room. 

The doctor sternly grasps her by the 
wrist zi'ith one hand, raising her face 
with tJie other and gazing into her eyes.] 

Dr. Allyn, 
So, it's true! You are a thief! 

Mrs. Allyn. 
C Terrified.) 
No, no ! It's not true. I am innocent ! 

Dr. Allyn. 

(IVith emotion, releasing her.) 
It is true — ^}'ou are guilty ! — My God ! 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Fra)itically cliitclii)ig at his arm.) 
No! no! Hear me, Gilbert! For God's sake, hear me! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Disengaging himself, zvitlt great emotion.) 
Oh, Kathryn ! Kathryn ! What impelled you to do so low, so 
common a thing? You, my wife! You have disgraced me, 
you have disgraced that poor old woman, your foster mother, 
who loves you — and you have wrecked yourself ! 



THE BLOOD OP THE FATHERS 235 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Defiantly, recovering her self-control.) 

It's a lie — a damnable lie ! I defy you and your infamous 
detective to prove it ! 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sadly.) 
Do you think for one moment that you can deceive me, 
Kathryn? You are guilty. Would to God I could believe 
you innocent ! The evidence submitted by the detective is 
merely circumstantial, but your actions, and what I saw in 
your face a moment ago, are sufficient to convince me of 
your guilt. (Sternly.) You have the missing diamonds upon 
your person at this moment — there! (Points accusingly at her 
bosom.) You may as well confess it and surrender the jewel. 

Mrs. Allyn. 
(Raging.) 
Confess a crime I did not commit ! Allow you and your con- 
temptible police hireling to get away with your dastardly plot ! 
Never ! 

[She starts to leave the room. 
Dr. Allyn grasps her by the arm and 
detains her.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sternly.) 

One moment, Kathryn. I'm a pretty patient man — as you 
know better than any one else. I have reasons for being — 
well, charitable to you ; but I'm human and my forbearance 



236 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

has its limitations. I warn you that you are crowding me 
perilously near the clanger point. By making a clean breast 
of the matter and surrendering the jewel you can make partial 
amends for what you have done, and aid me in avoiding pub- 
licity. You can also avoid a search for the diamonds which 
may be embarrassing to you. (Pleadingly, laying his hand 
on her shoulder.) For your own sake, Kathryn, for your poor 
mother's sake and for mine, I beg you to do your plain duty 
and make the only reparation in your power. 

[Mrs. Allyn strikes off her husband's 
hand and zi'ith a contemptuous look at 
him starts for the door, at left. 
She stops at the door, and turning tozvard 
the doctor, looks at him defiantly.] 



Dr. Allyn. 
(Very sternly.) 
So, you choose to be obstinate — defiant, even? Very well, 
then. If you prefer methods that are less considerate than 
mine, that is your privilege. I have no further desire to usurp 
the functions of the police. And let me tell you this : When 
the gentleman who is awaiting me in yonder room leaves this 
house he shall take with him the stolen diamonds. (Looks at 
his zvatch.) I'll return in five minutes. If by that time you've 
not come to your senses, I'll wash my hands of the matter and 
let the law take its course. 

[He goes to door at right. 

While the doctor is speaking, Mrs. 
Allyn stands stubbonily defiant, biting 
her lips and angrily glaring at him. 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 237 

Doctor pauses at exit, turns and gases 
back at her, sorroivfnlly shaking his 
head.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(At exit, again looking at his watch.) 
In just five minutes, remember! 

[Exit Dr. Allyn. 

Airs. Allyn collapses, goes to sofa, 
throzvs herself upon it, buries her face in 
her hands and sobs violently.] 

Mrs. Allyn, 
(Raising her head.) 

My God! What have I done? Gilbert is sure of my guilt. 
I am not clever enough to deceive him. (Rising, zvith great 
emotion.) Five minutes ! — in five minutes Gilbert will return ! 
And that awful detective ! How can I ever face them ? I 
will not face them — so help me God! I will not. The dia- 
monds ! — They burn me — here ! 

[Tears open the bosom of her dress, 
takes out the stolen jezvel and hurls it 
to the floor. Looks at the diamonds.] 
(Continuing.) 

How I loathe the vile things! They glitter like the eyes of 
snakes. And now Gilbert and that awful man will know! 
Face them? Never! (Looks zuildly about the room like one 
deranged.) Ah ! 

[Rushes to laboratory and feverishly 
searches for something on the shelves. 



238 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Returns zvith a small phial containing a 
dark liquid.'] 

(Continuing.) 

Gilbert Allyn, you will soon know the truth — and that vile man 
will know! You want the jewel — only the jewel! Very well, 
you shall have it, but I do not have to face you. Five minutes I 
(Ga.zes at phial.) You once told me, Gilbert, that only a few 
seconds were needed for this ! 

[Rushes to door at left. Pauses and 
looks hack despairingly.] 
(Continuing.) 

Five minutes ! — you gave me five minutes, Gilbert Allyn ! — 
I will take an eternity ! 

[Bxit Mrs. Allyn.] 

[Enter Dr. Allyn, at right.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Quietly.) 

Well, Kathryn, have you — 

[Notices that ]\Irs. Allyn is gone 
and sees the jezvel lying on the floor. 
Shakes his head sorrozuftdly and picks 
lip the jezvel.] 
(Continuing.) 
Oh, the pity of it! 

[Lays the jezvel on the desk, goes to 
exit, at right, and opens the door.] 

(Calling, quietly.) 
Mr. Carruthers. 

[Enter Carruthers.] 



THB BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 239 

Carruthers. 
(Looking at the doctor inquiringly.) 
Well, did you—? 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sadly.) 
Recover the jewel? Yes. It is there — on the desk. 

[Carruthers goes to desk, picks up 
jeivel, examines it critically and puts it 
in his pocket.^ 

Carruthers. 
(Earnestly.) 
Believe me, this has been a very unpleasant duty. 

Dr. Allyn. 
Yes, I know — but it zvas your duty, and you have been more 
than considerate. 

Carruthers. 
That much was coming to you, Doctor. And now let us all 
'forget this unfortunate occurrence. 

[Dr. Allyn extends his hand, zvhich 
Carruthers clasps.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
Thank you, Carruthers. 

Carruthers. 
(Sniffing suspiciously at the air.) 
Pardon me, Doctor, but have you left any of your bottles of 
chemicals open? 



240 THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 

Dr. Allyn. 
Why, I think not. Why do you ask? 

CarruthERS. 

If I'm not mistaken I smell something like — 

[Dr. Allyn snijfs the air for a second, 
then madly rushes into the laboratory.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Excitedly, returning from laboratory.) 
A phial of prussic acid is missing! Good God! Can it be 
possible that — ? Kathryn ! 

[Riishes out of door, at left, foUoivcd 
by Carruthers. They re-enter a mo- 
ment later. Dr. Allyn totters to desk 
chair and buries his face in his hands.] 

Carruthers. 

(Sympathetically, laying his hand gently on the 
doctor's shoulder.) 
I'm mighty sorry for you, Doctor. 

[Goes to door at left, takes diamonds 
from his pocket, turns and looks first at 
jezvel and then pityingly at doctor.] 

Carruthers. 
(To Jiimself.) 
Pretty rough on you, old man, but if she were my wife — 



THE BLOOD OF THE FATHERS 241 

Well, it was in the blood. — If you only knew — that, and some 
other things! 

[Returns jewel to pocket. 

Exit Carruthers.] 

Dr. Allyn. 
(Sorrozvfiilly, raising his head.) 
The blood of the fathers ! (Picks up Kathryn's picture from 
the desk and gases at it sadly.) Poor Kathryn ! You were 
wiser than you knew. You set things right — and you did it 
in the only way. — The blood of the fathers! — And our 
children yet unborn — and our children's children — they, too, 
thank God! are saved — and in the only way. (Closes photo- 
graph case and lays it on the desk.) What a mess I've made 
of it all ! You said I needed you, Helen. (Takes Miss Car- 
ringford's letter from draiver, opens it and thoughtfully 
peruses it for a moment.) You are right, my dear friend, 
I do need you — God alone knows how much! 

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